


Demons & Angels

by Seltzer_In_Shadow



Category: Angels & Demons (2009), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Robert Langdon Series - Dan Brown
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure & Romance, Alternate History, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Good Omens Fusion, Angels and Demons, Angst and Humor, Awkward Flirting, Dan Brown is really fucking bleh, Drama & Romance, Endnotes and citations, Eventual Happy Ending, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Fun dumb and full of Crowley, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Lesbian Vittoria Vetra, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Pining, Silly endnotes, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2020-06-23 20:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 29,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seltzer_In_Shadow/pseuds/Seltzer_In_Shadow
Summary: The angel Aziraphale is tasked with thwarting Hells schemes involving; the illuminati, the pope, four cardinals and some antimatter. Heaven's "straight forward" plan, however, is thrown when the demon Crowley turns up to take credit for the murder of the pope. Realizing there is more to the mystery than Heaven or Hell has let on, the pair set out to save the day using art, science and the very history they have lived.In this AU I will be tearing Dan Brown's Angels & Demons to shreds and rebuilding it as the fun dumb Good Omens mystery fic it was meant to be all along. For the purpose of this story the canon apocalypse plan has not been put into motion.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Foreword  
> Dan Brown once wrote a book that drove me absolutely mad. It took itself far too seriously and was riddled with inaccuracies, not to mention racism and sexual assault. He thought he walked on water for writing a dumb mystery novel where younger women scientists would miraculously want to bone a storylike version of himself that knows art history. Dan Brown’s ‘Angels & Demons’ has bothered me for years but now I can put my contempt to good use. 
> 
> If you like footnotes you’ll love the fact that I spent too much time to make fun of Dan Brown and point out his bullshit. If you’ve seen the movie I’ll also be adding in some trivia. The movie and the book are different as the former tries to right a few of the wrongs of the book. Still for the purpose of this fic I will focus mainly on the book. In the end I will spend far too much time on this and give Dan Brown’s works far too much attention. Still if theres a hill I die on it will be the hill of Dan Brown is really fucking bleh.
> 
> Thank you to Fay_the_gay for editing this work footnotes and all. You really are THE gay.  
> Check out her RWBY fic 'A Whispered Feeling' it's queer, magical and full of fluff angst.
> 
> Here is the first endnote: I placed it here for convenience.
> 
> 1: The amount of antimatter humans have made at this time could not boil a cup of tea. But this is still a fic so lets say they’ve really got some serious tea boiling antimatter here. https://www.symmetrymagazine.org/article/april-2015/ten-things-you-might-not-know-about-antimatter  
> This isn’t a research paper. I don’t plan on pretending I’m a scientist. My citations will be in the footnotes if you care. They will not be in MLA format. They will also not be in Chicago or APA. I have a degree I will never use and I plan on keeping it that way.

**Author’s Note**

**References to all works of art, tombs, tunnels, and architecture in Rome are entirely more factual (as are their exact locations) than Dan Brown’s work. I do not claim to be completely factual because that would be a really wildly bold statement to make.**

**The brotherhood of the Illuminati may or may not be real and therefore may or may not be into reading Good Omens fanfic. If you’re the Illuminati reading this, you’re beautiful.**

**Fact:**

The _Conseil Européen pour la Recherche Nucléaire_ (CERN), has been able to successfully produce antimatter. 

**Fact:**

This concerns Heaven

**Fact:**

This delights Hell

**Fact:**

  
Humans still know little about antimatter. This includes a handful of authors, scientists, students, families, countries, and people who have watched YouTube TED Talks on the matter. What they do know is that it is highly unstable, which being humans will not stop them from producing more of it in as much quantity as possible (1). They also theorize it is essential to life itself. This is also true though they don’t know the half of it.

**Prologue**

Somewhere in CERN a physicist named Leonard Vetra was burning. He probably smelled his own flesh. It was unfortunate that he refused to give the password the mysterious figures were torturing him for. Things may have gone differently for him if he had. They also may have gone exactly the same. 

Somewhere in Oxford the angel Aziraphale was also burning. This could have gone differently for him if he had checked the weather report before his walk to the university library. It was a particularly hot summer day and his tartan collared shirt and heavy suit were not suited well for the weather. It was unfortunate that he would forget to change every time he went indoors and remember only for the brief moments he went outside. This would always go the exact same way, he really did love a tartan collar.

_**1** _

“Angel you have some cream on the corner of your mouth.”

“Do I?” The angel Aziraphale knew the game the demon was playing at. 

“Yes, shall I get that for you?” 

“If you insist dear.”

“I do angel, you know I do” the demon Crowley leaned in and-

Aziraphale woke with a jolt at the sound of his telephone ringing. He had fallen asleep at his desk reading a book; groggily he looked down and noticed he had barely gotten through the wildly presumptuous authors note. He got up and went over to the phone which he had inconveniently placed across the room.

“Hello, This is professor Arthur Z. Fell speaking.”

“Professor? Aziraphale are you doing human labor again? We told you to stop wasting your time with all that.” 

The tone Archangel Gabriel was using now, was the one he always used. Cold, harsh and impatient. Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Couldn't he just thwart the evils of poorly written papers? 

“We have an assignment for you. The pope is dead and we believe the demon Crawly has something to do with it.”

“Crowley? He- He is a deviously cunning adversary!” Aziraphale was awake now and reminded himself to be cautious. “But the pope? Whatever could Hell want with the pope? We aren’t actually tied to the Vatican and Hell knows that. Their holy water isn’t even that holy!” 

Gabriel sighed, clearly irritated.

“Heaven doesn’t care about the pope. What we care about is the antimatter. Which—”

“Antimatter?!”

“Will you let me finish?!”

“Right, sorry. Go on.”

“There is a human group called the Illuminati. They have killed a scientist in charge of creating man made antimatter. They have then taken said antimatter to the Vatican, killed the pope and kidnapped four cardinals. They will kill the cardinals by 8pm tomorrow and then use the antimatter as a weapon. We believe Hell plans to use the group to get their hands on the antimatter before the weapon's detonation. The cardinals can be ignored, what matters is that Hell doesn’t get the antimatter.” 

“But Hell is full of antimatter! We all are. ”

“Right but this is manmade”

“.....”

“Which is exactly chaotic enough for Hell to use to its full advantage.” 

It sounded odd, but God’s plan is ineffable after all so who was he to argue. 

“You should know the human riddle garbage this group loves so much, which should lead you to the antimatter. It’s a straightforward mission. Just do what you normally do, thwart Hell’s influence on earth. 

“Right. Very well. I’ll get on that.”

“Great! You have 24 hours. It’ll take a miracle to get to CERN and talk to the scientists and then to the Vatican after that. You’ve been approved for the travel. 

“Right. Yes. Thank you.”

“Remember. We don’t fail.”

“Yes abs—”

The line went dead. Aziraphale collapsed into a chair. Talking to Heaven was exhausting. 

_Well I suppose I’ll have to cancel classes for tomorrow…_

The angel had two years ago taken up a position at The University of Oxford as a professor of symbology. He started the position originally to have access to the large collection of books at the school, but later added the actually teaching classes part. He figured a change of pace would be good for him. His classes were “On Religion and Symbology” and “Symbolism in Art History”. Both were well liked and very paper heavy as he enjoyed reading student papers, though on occasion he got lost in the reading and forgot to grade them. Miraculously he had received tenure within his first year there. This had been unheard of because no one had taken much notice of it. He did want to keep a low profile after all. 

It had not been the first time he had taught (Ancient Greece had been a particularly fun time to teach, so had 1770s Bavaria, and the U.S in the 1970’s), and he quiet missed the interactions of curious young human minds. On occasion he slipped up on tenses in class but the students either didn’t notice or took it as a joke as professors past their thirties are oft to do. Surely their professor couldn’t have actually been around for the writing of these hieroglyphics, and did he just call that artist by his first name and stare off dreamily? Certainly not.

He straightened himself out and changed into a clean white suit jacket and decided he would have a cup of hot chocolate before heading to CERN. He walked down the spiral staircase, past the dining room and into the kitchen. 

His home was near the campus and was a lovely brick Victorian style home which had begun to grow a bit of ivy on it as soon as he moved in. 

It fit his taste perfectly. The light was mild enough, so as to not harm his large collection of books, but bright enough to still bring out the pale soft pinks, greens and ivories he used in his furnishing and decorating. Aside from his large library he was most proud of his dining room which he used for entertaining. The room was nicely lit and painted a lovely periwinkle, the trim and crown molding on the walls shone bright white. In the center was the long polished wooden table and chairs he had picked out to be comfortable for sitting and talking, or simply reading for hours. He was known for having students over for tea on Sundays as well as study sessions before exams. His dining room could easily accommodate those that attended and it was the least cluttered room in his house, it contained his neater bookcases.

Aziraphale hadn’t been this close to humans in some time and it was nice to have the company even if it was mostly just chatter. He had become a sort of a recluse for the past two decades and socializing was interesting to him again. He found himself very invested in human drama, particularly that of his students who came to him on Sunday with scholarly questions but also advice on life, love and their futures. Azirapahle eventually realized he didn’t actually have to be good at giving advice, the students were just happy to have an ear and he was happy to have an excuse to make scones. 

He turned the kitchen light on and realized it was still dark out. He hadn’t even bothered to check the time at the start of his time sensitive mission. He still didn’t, instead he went into the cupboard and got out his cacao powder and a small pot. While pouring in the milk he heard his printer begin to run in the next room over, his smaller study (only four bookcases here). He started the hot chocolate on the stove and went over to check on the machine. 

Heaven had prompted it to print out a symbol. Forwards and backwards it spelled out the named Illuminati. The next image was of a man branded with the symbol who was quite blue and quite dead. Aziraphale thought he saw an eye missing. The golden text underneath it read;

_Leonardo Vetra, father to Vittoria Vetra, both CERN scientists. Find Vittoria Vetra, she is expecting you within the hour. The Vatican has hired you for all intents and purposes. Don’t stay long. We don’t fail._

Aziraphale sighed. His cocoa would have to wait .


	2. Chapter 2

**_2_ (2)** __

As Aziraphale miraculously teleported himself to CERN in the matter of a minute, he thought of planes.

It would take a remarkably fast plane to get from Oxford to Switzerland in such a short amount of time, so that wasn’t possible. But if he were traveling from somewhere such as the United States to CERN on an incredibly fast plane,in the matter of say an hour, such a plane would probably have to be described in exact detail with lots of flight speeds and references to it’s engine. In the end though said plane would more likely than not be abandoned by its research team for it’s impracticality (3). Chances are it would most likely not be mentioned outside the context of paperback mystery novels whose plots called for their protagonists having timely travel options. He thought all of this and then he arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2) Dan Brown doesn’t know how chapters work. Did he think that 137 chapters would make him sound smart? Maybe I’ll do 200 then buddy! (I really won’t that’s insane)  
> It's easier to separate these chapters out because endnotes work better on AO3. Sorry for the brevity of some of them. Blame Dan Brown. 
> 
> (3) https://www.heraldnet.com/business/boeing-the-x-33-and-angels/ Dan Brown put a lot of time and effort describing a plane that would never amount to anything. I can relate to him in this aspect as I had to just reread several of his plane loving chapters just to write a parody fic for very petty reasons. On a different note (but also physically in the same note) he could have just written a Good Omens fanfic which would have made travel for his character a lot easier and saved him the need to write about planes so goddamn much.


	3. Chapter 3

**_3_ **

On a busy street in London a killer queen serpentined through the crowd(4). There was a swagger in the demon Crowley’s step as there always was when he was on his way back from shopping. It was so easy to create chaos while keeping up with trends. Today he had made all dresses designed to be gold and white to look blue and black to half the people who saw them. The demon was tall and thin with a well sculpted frame. His fiery red hair was styled in a short but spiky manner, though he was considering changing it. He wore sunglasses at all times and dressed in various shades of black. His jeans were tight and his shoes always had a sharp sound to them. This was very much on purpose, as he liked the click. 

He walked past a store selling used electronics which had the boxes all set to the same station. The news showed the death of the pope. “ POPE MURDERED?” said the program’s banner displayed in bold. 

He stopped and tipped down his shades. As he got a better look he smiled.

“Oooh they’ll like that one. Best get on it,” and with that the man was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 Dan Brown uses this word to describe the killer’s motion through the city but I couldn’t help but want to use it for our beautiful snake demon boi.


	4. Chapter 4

_**4** _

  
When Aziraphale arrived at the gate to CERN the guard there took no notice of him. He was immersed in a summer thriller that he just couldn’t quite put down. It had many chapters.  
Aziraphale interrupted.  
“Pardon me.”

The guard jumped in the manner that people usually do when they’re caughting reading on the job.

“AuH! Uh yes..Can I help you?”

Aziraphale smiled and continued.

“My name is Arthur Z. Fell. I’m a professor for the University of Oxford and have been sent to talk to one Ms.Vittoria Vetra.”

“Right yes. May I see some identification?”

“Certainly.” The angel handed the guard his University Identification card.

Aziraphale was proud to not have to create an ID miraculously. It was the first time he had ever had one and he found it to be quite handy. He also quite liked his picture on it. Oxford had captured his good side.

The guard handed the card back and thanked Arthur Z. Fell, he then made a phone call.

“Mrs.Vetra will be here momentarily”

“Thank you”  
The angel waited for a few moments before the gates opened.

Vittoria Vetra was a tall Italian woman with long dark hair and tanned skin. She appeared to be in her early thirties (though Aziraphale did always have trouble keeping track of such things). She wore black slacks, and white button up. Her lab coat splayed behind her as she walked up to meet the angel (6).

She wore a forced smile and her eyes bore a deep sadness that she was attempting to mask with a deeper focus on the task at hand.

Aziraphale extended his hand.

“Ah Miss. Vittoria, lovely to meet you. I’m sorry about the unfortua-”

Vittoria immediately took the angels hand and shook it with a tight grip, warning him to stop talking with an intense look. The angel took the hint.

“Mr. Fell, thank you for meeting with me and my father. Our office is this way.”  
She released his hand and turned towards the gate once more. Azirpahale followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5 Every side is his good side, he is an angel after all. This is just his best side. This is a joke note. I’m so happy Dan Brown didn’t do footnotes, his books would have been worse for them. He did make bad “jokes” that he thought to be clever. He just kept those in there. Looking at you fat shaming scene on page 23 and ionic column scene on page 26. 
> 
> 6 Dan Brown writes “...Her face was unmistakably Italian - not overly beautiful, but possessing full, earthy features that even at twenty yards seemed to exude a raw sensuality. As the air currents buffeted her body, her clothes clung, accentuating her slender torso and small breasts..” pg50. It then goes into how she’s a vegetarian and does yoga. Hey Dan Brown? What the fuck?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sent me on a wild chase for a glass cathedral that ended up not existing at CERN. This is what I get for reading Dan Brown's building descriptions as fact.  
> I played myself. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments! Your support and my spite for Dan Brown keeps me going everyday! 
> 
> A HUGE thanks to Fay _the_gay for editing all this repeatedly. If you haven't checked out her work "A Whispered Feeling" you should! It's a fluffy, angsty, queer, pagan, poly fic that you don't have to watch RWBY to enjoy. 
> 
> Finally  
> I'd like to say Vittoria is gay and anyone who says other wise can get out. Hear that Dan Brown? Shoo! Geeet! Go! 
> 
> Enjoy! <3

_**5** _

Aziraphale was glad he had made a point to hop on the computer and Google CERN before he had left Oxford. He preferred to know the basics of the areas he traveled to and CERN had a lot of ground to cover. As he quickly followed Vittoria across campus he admired his surroundings as much as he could. Grouped in clusters were modern angular buildings of grey concrete with eye drawing glass windows. On the whole most had a monolithic look to them with the occasional building switching to shining chrome paneling or implementing some swooping arch. The facility however tried to make up for the overall blandness with large sculptures displaying all sorts of science and scientific machinery. An immense spherical building stood out proudly on the grounds, a glass dome surrounded by wooden panels that made it almost glow in the sunlight. Aziraphale recognized it immediately, as it had been the first image that had appeared on Google. An artistic monument of aesthetics and engineering, this was The Globe of Science and Innovation. Aziraphale sighed realizing they were walking away from it as it didn’t house any laboratories and therefore was not their destination. It was actually the visitor center and museum. Of course he didn’t _need_ to visit the inside of it, but it might have been nice. He had to remind himself this wasn’t a pleasure tour after all. Perhaps he might actually return someday. Even if he wasn’t enthralled by human science he did enjoy a lovely building and a good museum.

The two veered instead to building 40, also known as the ATLAS project building(7), it acted as the main control center for all Hadron Collider experiments and laboratories. Even though they were a good lengths away from the building the collider itself was already underneath them, and had been the moment he set foot at the gate. The angel had read about the collider online but the descriptions of The ATLAS project had been vague and he hadn’t cared to read much further beyond the facility's main page. Still he knew from the website’s picture that the collider was massive. He had to hand it to them, Humans had actually moved mountains to play with particles. 

Building 40 was disappointingly plain in comparison to The Globe. It was large, with the same mixture of concrete and windows he had seen from the rest of the facilities’s structures. Though he supposed it may have had a few more windows than the rest, which must be nice for the hard working scientists, science shouldn’t have to be stuffy after all(8). 

As they entered the building Aziraphale took in the entrance hall. He squinted at the harsh fluorescent lighting wondering why they would have so many windows if they weren’t going to make use of them. The hall was largely painted white with chrome accents and frosted glass walls. The whole place felt much like heaven to Aziraphale and he _really_ hated heaven’s aesthetic choices. Luckily Vittoria made it so that he did not have to take in the interior decorating much longer as she headed for an open elevator door and gestured for him to follow. 

The door closed and they began their decent. Vittoria spoke to break the awkward silence of two people, who hardly know each other, being in an elevator to go see a corpse.

“I apologize for the pace but I would like to find a spot where we can speak in private. It won’t be much longer but I don’t trust us speaking here either.”

Aziraphale nodded “Of course, I completely understand.” 

They both waited in silence as the elevator descended. 

It took some time for the two to make their way to Vittoria and Leonardo’s lab. Once they arrived Vittoria used a retina scan to access the room and Aziraphale followed behind. 

As the door slid automatically closed Vittoria sighed, not in relief but in absolute stress and depression. A sigh that said, “Fuck all of this. What’s the point? Why am I still even here?” 

She hadn’t even called her wife Marcella. She couldn’t. It had happened in what now seemed like a haze. She had discovered the larger quantity of antimatter stolen and her father dead in the office. A bit later, though she wasn’t sure how long, the office phone had rung and somehow still shell shocked she had managed to pick it up. The call was fromThe Vatican saying that they believed a member of a secret society was after her father and her research. She had confirmed this, and had attempted to answer Archbishop Gabriel’s cold and impatient questions as best as she could. At one point Gabriel had asked her to send over a picture of the body showing the branding. A specialist would be on the way to identify the marking in roughly an hour, and she was to tell no one until after Arthur Z. Fell had left. For some reason, despite being a very cautious person, she had believed all of this and done exactly as they had told her. Though she couldn’t explain why. 

Vittoria gathered herself and tried once again to put on a colder mechanical exterior. She attempted to remove herself from the feelings and focus on the facts. She found that it rarely worked but it was nice to try and pretend. Pretend that for a moment this wasn’t her, it was someone else. That the body in the office with the burnt branded flesh and torn eye wasn’t her father, it was someone else’s. Her father was at home for the day, in his study. He had simply taken the day off! Marcella and herself would stop by later for dinner. Tonight they would have something simple; tortilla espanola. They’d talk about their upcoming ski trip, and her father would smoke his pipe. They’d have coffee after dinner and then go home. Tomorrow she would return to work and her father would greet her with a big smile and a cappuccino waiting for her on her desk. She paused. He’d never make her another cappuccino. He wouldn’t be doing any of those things….ever again. Tears stung her eyes but she still kept them from falling. 

She hadn’t cried. She needed to scream(9).

“If you would excuse me for a moment.”

She turned away and began to walk towards what Aziraphale did not know was simply a broom closet. 

“Of course Mrs. Vittoria, take your time.” He said this as she closed the door. Immediately he heard a muffled scream and the scientist kick something. While his italian wasn’t great he made out something along the lines of “ARGGGG. GOD DAMMIT. YOU’RE A SCIENTIST VITTORIA GET IT TOGETHER. Breathe!--” and so on. 

He took the opportunity to look around the lab. It was a large white room with white and chrome machinery he did not understand and wouldn’t bother understanding given the time frame of the situation. Going into lengthy details on machinery wouldn’t do him or anyone else much good right now. Where there wasn’t machinery there were computers and long tables covered in notepads, files and papers. Some of these were strewn about from what looked to have been a struggle. A chair was toppled over and a light smear of blood trailed towards the office. He noted the entrances and exits. There was the main door to the lab which they had come in. Then there was the “room” Vittoria had gone into, a door that was labeled office, and a room with a large glass window. 

He was going towards the windowed room when he heard Vittoria walk out of the closet. Aziraphale turned to face her. The scientist’s face was red but she was wearing a neutral expression, acting as if nothing had happened. She spoke in a calm, matter of fact tone. 

“Thank you for waiting. You’ll find Leonardo Vetra in the office” She paused for a second but then continued, maintaining her composure. “I’m sure you’ve already seen the image that was sent to you?” 

“Yes I did. I am sorry for your loss Vittoria.” He said this with the utmost sadness. Humans were so open to pain, and he hated to see them hurt like this. 

“Thank you.” She said, her voice no longer wavering. She continued, not allowing herself to stall any longer. Facts needed to be said. Science facts(10). 

“My father and I had been working on a project that all of CERN has yet to know the full extent off. The project was approved by the board so it was hardly a secret, though I do not believe they knew my father’s true purpose(11). Leonardo Vetra was a man of both science and religion, a priest and a physicist, and sought to prove that the two went hand in hand. He believed that science could be used to answer the big theological questions of the universe. We theorized that by proving there had to be an enormous amount of energy suddenly to create a big bang then that energy must have been god. Our tests began…....” Vittoria continued into particle theory and Aziraphale tried and failed to remain interested. 

Science rather bored him as much of it was inaccurate and theoretical, which was interesting in a historical sense. But when you took part in creating the universe itself it was sort of like having an excited child explain how plants grow. Though at the same time it displayed the one thing he loved the most about humans; that since the fateful day they had left the garden they were always asking questions and working on answers. They had accomplished quite a lot through this method as well. There they were, one day running from lions in loin cloths with flaming swords, to now making antimatter, the very stuff of the ethereal. Humans, he realized, were rather scary in this sense. They really didn’t stop did they? 

“.... So we recreated the big bang successfully, and in that moment we were able to create matter from nothing. Antimatter. ” Aziraphale had tuned back in. 

“Oh my. So that’s how you did this? Incredible.” Vittoria looked pleased. She should be as she had done something incredible and unheard of, and had gotten the attention of Heaven, Hell and secret societies. Soon she’d be world famous. 

“How was it stolen?” Asked Aziraphale plainly, hoping to deter the rest of the science conversation. 

Vittoria’s face hardened again.

“The culprit must have walked in directly behind my father and ambushed him, then tortured him with branding and taken his eye. What I do know is that they used his eye for the retina scanner to unlock the chamber we keep the cylinders in. Afterwards, they dragged him to the office to not cause immediate unwanted attention.” She said all of this with a calm, even tone and lead him to the room with the large glass window. They did not go inside but even so everything was fully on display. 

The room was a large contrast to the stark white of the outside laboratory as it’s walls were unpainted chrome and the light was dim. The brightest light in the room came from a large table like machine with four glowing chambers, one of which was glowing an angry red. The chambers that glowed normally each contained a capsule slightly bigger than a bread box. And in these capsules, suspended in midair by use of a magnetic field, there was a glowing speck. It was faint but Aziraphale recognized it as the matter he had worked with long ago; to help God in her project that would eventually become space, life, humanity and the world. He didn’t need to see more of it, he knew humanity had actually done the chaotic raw work of God.

“Incredible.” He said again, gently, almost in reverence. 

Vittoria nodded in agreement blankly, She stared at the red glowing chamber throwing her loss back in her face with each angry red flash. 

The angel pulled himself together. He had learned enough about the situation at hand now, all he needed was to see the body and go to the Vatican. The illuminati symbol itself was nothing special, after all any computer could generate that nonsense. What he did need to confirm was if he could detect any magical cause of death. He wanted to assess how involved Hell was in the theft at CERN, and if he would be working against demons directly or just simple manipulated humans. Hopefully this would all be over quickly and in 24 hours he’d be able to relax in Rome for a nice dinner before heading back to Oxford. 

“May I see the body?” Aziraphale asked 

Vittoria snapped out of her trance and refocused. 

“Yes. Right this way.” Vittoria lead him to the office adjacent from the windowed chamber. 

The two entered and Aziraphale saw it contained two large wooden desks, both with immense bookcases behind them. A coffee machine sat in the corner on a small table, a pale corpse lay in the middle. 

Aziraphale crouched down to take a closer look. He tried not to look disgusted, but he really didn’t like the whole rotting thing that bodies did. Luckily the cool laboratory temperatures had kept Leonardo quiet fresh. He used a pen to push aside some fabric that had been burned into the flesh, it stuck a bit. He ignored this and continued to push it aside to reveal the branding. 

The symbol was an ambigram(12), meaning it showed the name forwards and backwards. Anyone could have created the symbol on a computer program, but with Heaven getting involved the angel assumed it must be legitimate in some form to the group they were thwarting(13). The issue here was there were, have been, and currently are, many groups associated with the name and symbol. As well as many conspiracy theories and internet memes about their involvement in society, music, and the media. The group Heaven was most likely concerned with was not the original group but a subset created much later on. 

Aziraphale walked over to the coffee table and just so happened to find a large white table cloth folded on the second shelf. Neither the second shelf nor the cloth that had existed until just now. He took the cloth, knelt down, and slowly draped it over Leonardo Verta. As he did this he closed his eyes and did an energy scan of the body and his surroundings. He detected no demonic interference, only his own angelic energy. Leonardo Vetra’s killer was human. 

He stood up. “Do you care to have me explain the Illuminati?” The angel asked to be polite, he didn’t want to lecture the poor woman needlessly.

Vittoria didn’t know where the cloth had come from but was too preoccupied with other things to question it further. 

“They’re responsible for killing my father? Then yes absolutely. Tell me what you know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7) Dan Brown hypes up the main building saying it’s nicknamed The Glass Cathedral. However I couldn’t find any reference to this nickname for the building outside the context of this book. (I spent far too much time on this) There is the Globe but that was gifted to CERN pre A&D (in 2004) and there is building 40 also known as The ATLAS building. I’m pretty sure he created this nickname himself. I have to give the man some credit for at least not claiming to accurately describe every location correctly, just every location in Rome (see author’s note) Anyway if you want to do a virtual tour like I did check out the site here. https://visit.cern/tours/online-visits 
> 
> 8) On another note. Dan Brown adds a vertical free fall tube into CERN that they don’t actually have at the facility. He does this just so Robert Langdon can later learn a fact that will convince him to use a small tarp to jump out of an exploding helicopter, where he will land completely unharmed. He also uses it to make that fatphobic comment I mentioned in an earlier footnote. Absolutely Buckwild. Did he add this in later on when he realized he needed a helicopter escape route towards the end? Who can say?
> 
> 9) Dan Brown writes "Vittoria closed her eyes and breathed. Then she breathed again. And again. And again . . . Langdon watched her, suddenly concerned. Is she okay? He glanced at Kohler, who appeared unfazed, apparently having seen this ritual before. Ten seconds passed before Vittoria opened her eyes. Langdon could not believe the metamorphosis. Vittoria Vetra had been transformed. Her full lips were lax, her shoulders down, and her eyes soft and assenting. It was as though she had realigned every muscle in her body to accept the situation. The resentful fire and personal anguish had been quelled somehow beneath a deeper, watery cool." -pg 57 This was just a lot. I just decided she should scream. She deserves it after all of Dan Brown's commentary. 
> 
> 10)Dan Brown spends a lot of time on science. He doesn’t claim fact here but if you’re curious about everything he gets wrong CERN made a website just to correct the movie. So feel free to check that out. https://angelsanddemons.web.cern.ch/  
> Also if you really dig the idea of CERN.This is a good article on CERN and the Collider in general.  
> http://www.cnn.com/2013/12/08/tech/innovation/lhc-cern-higgs-cms/index.html 
> 
> 11) It is absolutely wild that in the book NO ONE at CERN knows about this experiment. In the movie the who facility is involved which makes much more sense but somehow in the book Dan Brown thought that it would be chill that two people could use CERN to make antimatter and the whole facility would be like “Just give them their privacy, kay?” 
> 
> 12) If you’re interested in ambigrams and the one’s Dan Brown uses for the book and in the movies here’s a link to an article about the creator of them, whose name is no kidding, John Langdon. https://drexel.edu/now/archive/2009/May/Ambigram-Artist-and-Drexels-John-Langdon-Behind-Symbols-Appearing-in-Angels--Demons/
> 
> 13) Dan Brown had Robert Langdon confirm it’s truly the Illuminati by saying this ambigram is impossible to make by any other person than Galileo and it was to be revealed when the Illuminati planned on coming back and gaining full power. In his book and movie comparison review Benjy Monteagudo points out that this symbol could easily be done on any simple computer program. I liked this point of his and a few others which I will site future footnotes later on. Check out his review, if you’d like to see what else he points out. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6wldwehlPQ He does one with the Da Vinci code too which is a book I could never finish.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw buildings lets get to some REAL HISTORY FACTS people. 
> 
> To the Illuminati reading this. Hey ;)

_**6**_

“The original Illuminati were called the Bavarian Illuminati, and were a group formed in 1776. It was no secret that they were against religious influence and abuse of state power. The founder Adam Weishaupt was a German law professor who worked at the religious University of Ingolstad  who was frustrated with the influence of the schools religious bureaucracy on his teachings . He liked the idea of the Freemasons but found them to be too fussy. Instead he created a group with the sole purpose of teaching “enlightenment” theory. All of the groups were later banned by the Bavarian ruler Charles Theodore with persuasion from the Catholic church in 1786 ……..(14)” 

Vittoria tried to say tuned in but was tired and suddenly she wished the professor would skip to the part about her father’s actual killers. She did however find his voice to be quite soothing. She wondered if he recorded his lectures at all. Had he ever considered starting a podcast? 

In the years he had been on earth Aziraphale had become entranced with human culture. Their literature, history, symbology, and art became his own passions. It helped that he had quite a hand in some historical aspects of the art that he studied and taught. It was in this way that 

Azirapahle was very familiar with the history of the original illuminati, he had after all come up with their name. 

Aziraphale had been at the University of Ingolstadt during Adam Weishaupt’s teaching and the two had been close  _ friends _ . Adam had come to him with the idea of an enlightenment society different from the Freemasons. He called it “Bund der Perfektibilisten, or Covenant of Perfectibility”. They were Perfectibilists(15) . Aziraphale had found the name terribly long and confusing, and instead suggested something more simple. “Why not something latin in origin?” (The angel was teaching latin at the time) “Like say  _ illuminatus _ ? Oh! See you could be The Illuminati! That has a lovely ring to it.” Adam had loved the suggestion and the group was retitled. 

Though Aziraphale had never actually joined the society himself, Adam had talked to him at length about the many disputes between the Illuminati and the university. Eventually Aziraphale was sadly called away to England and lost track of Adam, who he later found out had given up and joined the Freemasons anyway. 

_ Honestly dear after all that? Though I suppose he never was really that focused now was he? All talk no strategy that dear boy.  _

Adam was not alone in joining the Masons. Though there was a large split the Illuminati name continued to be used throughout history. 

“Eventually the group split. Some joined the Freemasons, but others went elsewhere. The original group was gone, but new groups using the name came about. There was one group in particular who wished to use the name to spread a new world order based on a luciferian doctrine. Here Lucifer is a liberator and bringer of enlightenment, not of sin. He - I mean the doctrine of this group is very anti-establishment and anti-religion(16) . In this sense there is a chance that the group we are dealing with here wishes to take down the Vatican with the very antimatter your father wanted to use to prove that science and religion can coexist.” 

Aziraphale did not mention the fact that while Hell had nothing to do with creation of the Neo-Illuminati, they did support the chaos the group caused. Heaven similarly had little to do with the Vatican though they did find them awfully easy to infiltrate when need be. Though both heaven and hell weren’t actually invested they did care if the other used such groups to actually attack on a larger scale. This, he assumed was why heaven was so distraught with them acquiring the antimatter. After all, human organizations did serve their purposes even if they weren’t actually all that holy or hellish.

Vittoria had taken a seat. She looked more troubled. 

“The Vatican had informed me that they were after my research. They never mentioned anything about harming the church...though I suppose that makes sense now. Do you know what they plan to do with it?” 

“We believe they will use it as a bomb of sorts. The battery on the canister lasts only 24 hours is that correct?”

“Yes. When the battery runs out the antimatter will hit the glass and cause an explosion. They took our larger canister. The others could only run a light bulb for around 4 hours.” 

“Oh dear I best be off to The Vatican then”

“How will you get there in time?!” 

‘Oh...um..yes.. by…uh..plane! Yes a very remarkable plane!” 

“There’s no plane that could possibly go that fast. I mean there was, but we abandoned that project yea-” 

“--Thank you so much for your time Vittoria! I’m sure we’ll get your antimatter back to you before you can say ticky-boo! I wish you the best of luck with all this..uh..science!” He turned for the door but glancing back his tone grew solemn. 

“And again dear I am ever so sorry for your loss. Take care.”

Vittoria got up from her chair and went to see him off, but when she looked out the office door the angel had disappeared. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 14) I used the wiki page https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illuminati 
> 
> 15) Gian Lorenzo Bernini and Galileo Galilei had nothing to do with the original Illuminati as they died way before the group was formed. They would however influence enlightenment thinkers because they would influence a lot of people in general. Here’s an article that talks about the Illuminati and Angels and Demons. https://people.com/celebrity/angels-and-demons-whats-fact-or-fiction/ How will I change this in the fic? Read more to find out. Either way Dan Brown made a big leap here. 
> 
> 16) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luciferianism


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So sorry for the delay! I've been having some health issues lately. Doc thought I had a tapeworm (Which I named Dan Brown) but it turns out Dan Brown could be something else and I needed a CT scan and now a colonoscopy. 
> 
> Health aside though I wrote these chapters wanting to not focus on at least one Dan Brown in my life for a moment. This is an anti-stan Dan Brown fic yes but it's still at it's heart a slow burn/fluff/angst/mystery fic, and I have been very much looking forward to writing these two together. So for a moment we shall focus less on footnotes and instead on them. 
> 
> Good Omens and this fandom have taught me many things but right now I'm focusing on this.  
> Sometimes things in our lives are ineffable but you don't have to face them alone. I'm so happy to be part of this community and to have such caring people in my life.  
> One of whom is my beta and perfect friend Fay. Thank you Fay for your support and keeping me motivated even in my hard times. You're a dear, a dove and deserve the world. Much love to you and all the illuminati reading this.

**7**

Contrary to popular belief, and it’s very own title, the Vatican is not a holy city in the slightest. It is actually considered a country in it’s own right, the smallest in the world in fact. Not that this mattered much to anyone but themselves and people looking to give interesting facts at parties. 

Secondly, the organization has never been claimed by Heaven or God. Both consider it more of a poorly run organization that wishes to be affiliated with them, but has never quite gotten the whole “doing good” thing right. The organization playing as a church was always spreading a false version of Her Word for their own gain, and while Heaven didn't want Hell to control the crumbling country/city/network, they also didn't care enough to fully support it. As of the moment Heaven kept an eye on it at times mostly just to make sure it didn’t start  _ another _ crusades which had been a real pain for all parties involved. 

At its core the Vatican was very stupidly human. Settled in dull ancient traditions with no meaning, selling a sense of purpose to collect money and power. They had used this money and power to commission more churches with art supposedly focused on god, but really meant to showcase their power and wealth. These seemingly powerful holy buildings, in actuality, were just monuments to human nature. They were brilliant, beautiful, historically important, and in no way did God care to dwell in them. It was the small churches; ones with single rooms, simple crosses, and old Italian nonnies praying midday, where God resided. 

Given the lack of actual godliness Crowley could walk into almost any large church or basilica in Rome. And it was for this very reason that the demon could easily walk through Rome and up to the gates of St. Peter's Basilica without so much as a tap dance. 

Presently he stood in the immense crowd waiting for the conclave to start, he made his way winding through people who felt the need to easily part the way for him. 

“Should’ve just popped inside the damn place” he murmured under his breath as he maneuvered to the closed off barrier. He hadn’t anticipated the crowd when he had decided to make the trip and was beginning to wonder if this plan was worth his time after all. Bloody dramatic election process if you asked him.

The crowd suddenly shifted and the press erupted into chaos. 

“What the bugger is this about?!” He shouted to a reporter as he was tousled from the pushing of the crowd.

The woman next to him held a camera and was fighting to get a safe angle for her shot. 

“Looks like the guards are talking to someone who just walked passed the barriers and through the gate!” 

“Walked through? With this many guards around? Pff you’d have to be an idiot to try something like that.”

Crowley moved closer with less ease than before, but finally made his way to the front of the barriers near the gate. There he saw the Swiss Guard move to apprehend a man in a white tweed jacket, white linen pants and a tartan bow tie. The platinum tuff of curls of the apprehended gentleman shone brightly, the reflected light appearing like a halo in the sun. 

The man’s tone however was not very angelic. 

“Unhand me this instant! I have permission to be here! I was sent here by the uuh… oh! Cardilengo himself!” The man was lead through a large green door quite roughly. 

Crowley sighed,  _ Angel what did you get yourself into this time _ _?(17) _

He watched the doors close and turned his back to the gates before disappearing back into the crowd. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 17) WAIT THAT”S MY IDIOT! The fanfic writer in me wanted to, the characterization felt off though in story.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE HERE. FINALLY.

**8**

Aziraphale was locked in the office of the head of the Swiss guard. A rough man named Commander Ernesto Olivetti, who took his job very seriously, and whom Heaven had not bothered to inform about Aziraphale’s arrival. 

“Honestly I just need to see the Camerlengo! He should know all about my being here! Just let him know I’ve arrived will you!?

Aziraphale shouted this at the still locked door. On the other side there was a guard instructed to “shoot if necessary”. Not very godly if you asked Aziraphale, though “The Church” didn’t really ever actually care about Her if it was inconvenient for them. Aziraphale realized how inconvenient he was for them at this moment and shuttered.

The angel weighed his options. He could poof himself out of there, but even then he didn’t know where he could find Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca and explain to him the situation. He had learned the Camerlengo’s name and proper title later, from Olivetti, who had grown tired of the Angel’s mispronunciation (Church hierarchy had never been the angel’s strong suit). Even if he did go out to search he couldn’t very well go around miracling himself around the country just to look for one man. 

He paused at the window. Did this group even know what was going on? Why hadn’t heaven told him more? 

“It all feels so off.” 

“ _ Actually _ I was just about to say this seems very on brand for you angel.”

Aziraphale lit up at the voice he had only last heard in his dreams. Then he remembered why he had been sent here. 

“Crowley!” He turned, looking more flustered and embarrassed than angry. He sighed and rolled his eyes however when he saw what the demon was wearing. 

Crowley was dressed in nun’s habit and had draped himself across a red wingback chair next to the office door, He still had on his sunglasses which were tilted down to the bridge of his nose and of course he was smiling like nothing else, clearly having the time of his life. 

“You know they don’t actually have nuns here don’t you?” 

“I do. That’s the joke angel. Do  _ yoou  _ know there’s no such thing as a Cardinalengo?”

The angel huffed. So he had seen him arrested earlier. 

“I do now. I don’t know why they have to have so many titles like that. Humans try and make everything so convoluted.”

“Ooh that’s really righteous coming from Principality Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate” He said the angel’s full title in a mocking sung praise he knew the angel couldn’t stand. 

“Why on earth are you here anyway! Was murdering a pope not enough for you?!” 

Crowley frowned. 

“Naah I didn’t murder the pope! Not my style, too messy. I’m here to take credit though, figured my lot would like it well enough. Put them off my back, for a while at least.”

Aziraphale looked relieved. Of course Crowley wouldn’t have actually murdered the pope. He had thought it to be odd. But he was a demon after all and had done, well, did, demonish deeds, so he could never quite know for sure. 

“Well that’s a relief I suppose.” 

He grew quiet for a moment and looked at the demon like he didn’t know what to do with him. 

Crowley stood up and snapped his fingers. Joke over, he was dressed in his usual attire, mostly black, fairly tight, far too hot for the weather. 

“Right then. Now angel what are you doing here? Surely it’s not for their brioche. An artisanal holy wafer perhaps?” He smiled again knowing full well they had been here before. 

“This isn’t a tourist trip Crowley! I’m here for business, important holy business! I-I have a plan.” 

“ Is that so? Was getting locked up part of the plan then angel? I don’t expect this lot to go around decapitating your pretty little corporeal form, but that gun out there sure could do some damage. Now why on earth would the Vatican lock you up?”

Aziraphale sat down on the brown love seat next to the Commander’s desk, suddenly looking exhausted. 

“Heaven sent me on a mission of sorts but I don’t think they took the time to actually explain to everyone my purpose here. I’m guessing they’re on high alert right now, and I really wasn’t thinking about my exact location when I teleported here. So I thought, well you know, might as well save myself a second miracle and just walk in through the gate.”

“Well you’re lucky I was passing through.”

“ I suppose I am.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love your comments and questions! Enjoy the angst!

**9**

It was uncanny how often their history repeated itself. Crowley had saved the angel from discorporation in Revolutionary France, and afterwards they had gotten a lunch of crepes, and drinks after that. With that event, and many others like it over the years, they had grown closer. Eventually they had even come to an arrangement. Doing blessings and temptings for each other, making sure they all balanced out in the end, and meeting up to discuss the outcomes. The almost yearly meetings however began to change and the topic of work was brought up much less often in favor of some art exhibit or new restaurants, more over they hardly seemed to notice. 

When Aziraphale had opened up the book shop in London they had finally begun to see each other more regularly and what they once considered meetings became outings, weekly, sometimes more than that. With closeness crept the ease of temptation, moments where they had once resisted to see each other now lead to reaching for the phone, making the call, setting a date and time simply for the sake of each other’s company.

They both realized that they were being reckless, the scent of each other settling like dust on books in the spaces they shared their time. The talking, drinking, venting, thinking “damn it all are we really so different? Couldn’t we just stay like this?”. Aziraphale would looked over at the bookcase thick with the dust of Crowley and was reminded of what holy water could do to the creature he loved. 

  


\--------

That evening had been off. Crowley had felt it from the start but had hoped it would change with the meal. It didn’t, and when he had asked at dinner the angel had returned his question with a soft smile and a “later dear, lets finish our supper first.” It wasn’t until they were both back at the bookshop swirling their whiskeys, silence heavy with worry and waiting, that Azirphale had said what was on his mind. 

“I’ve taken up a position at Oxford as a professor.” 

Crowley was quiet. Sure it wasn’t too far away to travel but he knew what it meant. They were going too fast. He was putting distance between them. Again.

Crowley took off his glasses and moved from his seat across the room to share the soft green sofa with Aziraphale. 

He looked at the angel trying not to pout, trying with everything not to feel the fall of hope that had been building within him for the last five years.

“When?” He said softly, trying not to break his voice 

“Next week dear. I’ll still keep the bookshop and you’re welcome to check up on it, but it’ll be closed I’m afraid, for quite some time.” He paused 

“Unless you’d like to run it for me?” he added smiling. It looked almost pitying, but a deep sadness there as well. 

“Do I look like I run a bookshop to you?” Again his voice didn’t break but he knew he looked pathetic. 

“No, I suppose not.” 

There was silence and in that moment of weakness, in a desperateness to feel close before it all left him, Crowley laid his lead against Aziraphale’s shoulder. The angel said nothing but stroked Crowley’s hair, ignoring the tears he now felt silently falling down the demons cheek. Their rhythm of comforting touch, falling tears and shallow breaths, casting a spell. Solidifying the realness of their circumstances, a concentration, to come to terms with the fact that after it ended, this too would be over. 

So much could have been admitted in that moment but both said nothing. Crowley knew the angel had made his choice and he would have to learn again to live without him. He thought back to the time before the angel. How he’d spent life passing time with brief moments of awe, reverence, hate, fear and loneliness. These past five years so close to Aziraphale had been so different from that, a steady flow of routine comfort. He realized he hadn’t felt loneliness in a long time, he didn’t know how he would cope with it, though he knew he would have to. What’s 6,000 more years among friends? What’s eternity if not the feeling of waiting for the one thing you want in life to come to fruition? 

He fell asleep and woke up on the angel’s sofa. Covered in a white knit blanket, it was delicate and warm and he felt the difference when he shrugged it off. He got up, left a note and nothing else.

_I’ll watch the shop, for you._

_\- C_

When he returned a week later. Most of the books were gone, along with the angel that loved them. He looked for a written response, something to indicate the angel had thought of him one last time before he left. He found none, but stayed anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look another chapter! 
> 
> Also Fay_the_gay posted a new chapter of her RWBY fic you should check out! 
> 
> She gives me waaay too much credit in her notes but honestly as my beta she's the one whose always helping me turn my clusterfuck tangents into just slightly shorter, regular angsty tangents. Much more palatable. Far less commas. 
> 
> We're going to be getting back into more footnotes as we go on but these few chapters are mostly setting up for the adventure we're really just beginning. If you're just now reading this and think, "huh not a lot of words but a fuck ton of chapters?" That's the Dan Brown portion and I apologize.

10

“Well then, angel” Crowley walked passed the angel towards the door. “I was just about to have a chat with the Camerlengo myself. Get a feel for how the pope kicked the bucket and all.” 

“You mean you know where to find him?”

Crowley looked back smiling, like he had a plan he was going to very much enjoy. “No, but I know _how_ to find him.” and with a snap the office door swung open to the pair of shocked swiss guards. Suddenly they collected themselves and stood at attention, raising their rifles. 

“Stop right there! Don’t move!” 

With another snap the guards suddenly took their own advice and were frozen in place. 

Crowley walked up to them with Aziraphale cautiously following behind him, now getting an idea of what the demon was planning. 

Even if they hadn’t been frozen the pair didn’t look all that menacing. Their uniforms looked more out of date than Aziraphale’s usual attire, but the color pallet was just comical. Blue, red and gold(18) were a bit too ostentatious for Crowley, but the style did remind him of the renaissance. Not a bad era if you asked him, though he now preferred much tighter pants. 

Crowley walked between the guards raised weapons and spoke cordially to the pair’s beret topped ears. “You two are going to escort my friend and I here to the Camerlengo. If anyone tries to stop you, you tell them you’re following direct orders from Commander Olivetti.” 

“Absolutely Sir. Right this way.” They both said in unison before they turned down the hallway. The angel and demon followed after them(19). 

The two were lead across the grounds from the security building toward the building that housed The Holy Office. By some miracle or demonic trick (they each took turns), they weren't stopped once along the route. While they walked Aziraphale relented and filled Crowley in on the events of the day. The demon listened curiously. Aziraphale was right, this all did sound off. He didn’t trust heaven, but he knew hell and this seemed far too convoluted for them to try and organize, let alone pull off! Kill the pope? Sure Hastur could have managed that, rather gleefully he imagined, but infiltrate a human organization that prided itself on science and humanity? Naaah. Not a chance. Not to mention that all seemed rather up his alley, and he got a bit bothered thinking they would try and pull something like this off without him. 

They were almost to the sanctuary when Commander Olivetti caught eye of them. 

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU **’** RE DOING?” He ran over with four guards behind him. The two entranced guards stopped and waited. Aziraphale, feeling flustered, gave Crowley a worried look. Crowley looked unconcerned and waved his hand, signaling for the angel to not get his knickers in a bunch. Once Olivetti arrived, the out of place pair were smiling rather all too innocently. Their escorting guards spoke as they had been told to. 

“We are escorting these two to the Camerlengo by orders of Commander Olivetti.” 

“Whoops forgot about that line,” Crowley whispered to the angel who glared smitefully at him before regaining his previous smile(20). 

“YOU CERTAINLY ARE NOT.” The Commander turned towards Crowley. “Who the devil are you?” 

Crowley smiled, who the devil indeed. He extended his hand. 

“Anthony J. Crowley and this here is my partner Arthur Z. Fell.” He gestured to the angel who waved in response 

“Lovely to see you again Commander!”

“We’re here on strict orders from a higher power to see Camerlengo Carlo Ventresca.” 

“There isn’t a higher power! I’m the one in charge here.” 

Crowley made a mock frown and lowered his extended arm which had been awkwardly hanging there far too long. 

“Oh I don’t think She’d appreciate a man of the cloth saying that now would She?”

“She? Who are you talking about? Guards take them back to my office. No! Wait, take them to the cells for questioning. I’ll come see them later once everything is sorted out.” 

Aziraphale spoke up. “Have you found the missing Cardinals yet Commander? I do hope you’re not wasting time. The clock must be ticking away on that little contraption you’ve found, is it not?” It felt cocky of him to say but time was of the essence and Commander Olivetti needed to know he knew it was all going... what was the term Crowley liked? Pear shaped!

Aziraphale caught a glimpse of Crowley as he spoke, who was looking rather cheeky at his remark. The confirmation made him feel braver for having said it. After all this was The Church, desecrators of Her good nature! Surely God herself wouldn’t mind a bit of poking fun...or maybe she would. Best stay serious. 

Commander Olivetti froze white in the face, then strode up to Aziraphale. “What. Did. You. Do?” 

“I-I’m here to help! There’s an awful lot going on and we don’t have much time! We have to stop the antimatter before it blows this place to bits! Not to mention save the Cardinals. But first, you absolutely have to stop The Conclave and evacuate the city immediately!”

“Stop The Conclave?” The Commander laughed “No it will go on all the same, with or without Il Prefe-” He stopped. 

“Who told you all of this?” 

This time Crowley stepped in “Why Camerlengo Ventresca of course! We were just on our way to see him actually, if you would care to join us Commander?” 

“Camerlengo Ventresca couldn’t have! He doesn’t know anything! He doesn’t need to! He’s a- a placeholder!” 

“Are you certain he doesn’t know?” Aziraphale said almost mockingly, almost. 

The commander looked furious. The day had been one annoyance after the other and the two in front of him were starting to take up far too much of his time. 

It had first started early that morning with the discovery of a moved security camera showing some counting down device. Judging by the CERN inscription on the canister they assumed it was a group of scientists attempting to scare the church into canceling The Conclave. However, they knew that any explosive couldn’t have actually gotten into the city so it was of no actual concern. Their sensors hadn’t picked up the location of the device, but they knew it was somewhere in the city, otherwise the signal wouldn’t have been able to reach them. And if it was in the city it couldn’t actually be explosive because their detectors would have picked it up. 

The bad news continued when an assistant had come to him with word that the press had somehow gotten confirmation, from an inside source, that the pope had been murdered. Which only increased the press’s attempts to speak to the Camerlengo and disrupt their busy schedule. Then, more bad news around 9am. Four cardinals, and not just any cardinals but, Il PREFERITI, the four most likely to be chosen, had gone missing. In fact, they had never even arrived to the Pauline Chapel for prayer that morning(21). 

Olivetti had been searching for the four when Ventresca had come to see him. He said he was expecting a visitor today though he couldn’t say more, just that they were to be brought to him at once. 

Well with everything going on he certainly wasn’t going to be bringing any unauthorized strangers to the Camerlengo, at least not without intensive questioning beforehand. Besides, as the head of the security force he had every right to know about this “visitor”. No, he was in charge here and the cocky young “Camerlengo” didn’t need to know about today’s hiccups. He was a placeholder, a figurehead, an insignificant passing mention in the doctrine that had been written long before matters of security had much higher consequences than simple poisoned wine attempts. If he was anything he was confident. In all his years as the Commander of the world’s top security force, dealing with bombs, assassination attempts, and conclave chaos, he knew he could handle this situation. Ventresca need not be involved. Just because he was the aid to the late pope didn’t make him really ready to handle the power he was holding currently. Still he needed to know who these people were and what Ventresca knew that he didn’t. 

The commander sighed. “Guards, take them and follow me.” 

The two were apprehended by the swiss guards behind Olivetti, and didn’t struggle for convenience's sake. The two previously entranced guards now looked confused but pretended to know what was going on anyway and followed suit. With that the group began walking towards the Holy Office. 

Crowley looked to the strong young guard holding his arm and smiled. 

“Harder.” He whispered. 

The guard looked confused, and blushing, turned his head away. Crowley felt the grip tighten for a second.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, mumbled something along the lines of “fiend” under his breath and continued walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 18) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Swiss_Guard Can I get a Wahoo for these uniforms though?
> 
> 19) Dan Brown would have ended the chapter here but god that’s so silly, we’ll continue. 
> 
> 20) Neil once wrote "Crowley glares at him, glarefully" so this is my angelic version. Yes I meant smite not spite. Glarefully smite me for it why don't you?
> 
> 21) https://www.catholicnewsagency.com/news/cardinals-will-begin-conclave-with-songs-prayers-and-oaths. Why was it important to me to know the Conclave route? Not sure but it might have something to do with the fact that I'm 100% THAT fan fic writer.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Guess who figured out footnotes?! (sort of) I used Vigs The Nice and Accurate Guide to Footnotes https://archiveofourown.org/works/20192773 
> 
> Which you should totally check out. I know nothing about HTML and this helped me so freaking much. I'm not going to go back anytime soon and fix all my other notes but I'm going to try and do it like this from here on out.
> 
> As always your comments and kudos give me the energy to keep writing, seeing that people (somehow) like my very niche AU is the sunshine in my otherwise cloudy email box. You're all so lovely, thank you <3 
> 
> Faythegay is my beta and if you like the fact that this fic actually is formatted in a way that you can read you should check out her stuff! Honestly I thank her every time I post and it's still not enough. Thanks for all the encouragement! <3

#  **11**

The group arrived outside the door of the holy office, and the commander knocked. 

“Come in.” The voice had a hint of an Italian accent and sounded surprisingly young for someone who was now in control of not only the entirety of the Catholic Church but also a small country. 

The Commander entered first and told the guards to wait for them at the door. The guards nodded, and Crowley and Aziraphale were let go of and followed the Commander in.

The office was spacious and bright. Shining Ivy wallpaper, like fine chair upholstery, covered the walls in a lattice design. The floor was patterned with large diamonds of black and white marble, interrupted by the occasional reddish brown silk rug. Sheer white curtains covered the windows letting in enough light to keep the office bright and pleasant. On the walls hung a few depictions of Christ along with a large wooden crucifix 1. Both Aziraphale and Crowley had been in past popes offices and were in awe of how simple this one seemed to be in comparison. 

“Better taste than Urban VI, at least.” Crowley leaned in and whispered to Aziraphale as they made their way in. 

“Well I suppose he was too busy torturing cardinals to decorate properly2.”

“Neegh, it was the 14th century. If you ask me the whole 100 years were a torture. Aesthetically and otherwise.” 

They stopped talking as they approached their holy host. 

Camerlengo Ventresca sat at a plain wooden desk in a cream velvet chair. He was indeed young. The man was somewhere in his early thirties (Aziraphale always had trouble determining exact human age), his hair showed long streaks of grey giving the impression that his life hadn’t been an easy one up to this point. He smiled at them in a manner that seemed calm enough, but did not relieve the tension that fell between him and the Commander. 

He rose from the chair and stood to meet the group. 

“You must be Professor Fell.” He offered his hand lightly to Aziraphale who shook it. 

“Yes. Pleased to meet you, your uh Holi-”

“Camerlengo is fine. I am not in the running for pope you see.” 

“Yes! Right! Camerlengo. I have-”

“Sorry to interrupt but I don’t believe your companion and I have introduced ourselves?”

The Camerlengo eyed Crowley perhaps a bit too keenly for a man of the cloth and appointed leader of a large, strictly heterosexual, religion. 

Crowley stepped forward. 

“Dr. Anthony J. Crowley, art historian, pleased to meet you Camerlengo Ventresca.”

The Camerlengo extended his hand and Crowley shook it. He noticed Ventresca’s hands were rougher than he expected a man of the church’s to be. 

Ventresca turned to Olivetti. 

“Now commander it seems as though you neglected to inform me of my guests arrival. You’ve put us back quite a bit you see.” His voice was calm but there was an edge there that made it clear he was not pleased with the position the commander had put them in. 

Olivetti spoke, “Do you have any idea how much of a security risk unauthorized guests pose to us? The day of Il C-”

“-They were authorized Commander. _I_ authorized them. Whether you like it or not I have that authority and if you have any respect for this office you will stand down and listen to what these two have to say.”

Olivetti looked as if he wanted to say more but, realizing he was out numbered and not looking for a further fight, regained his composure. Afterall he needed to know what exactly these three knew that he didn’t. 

“Very well, I’m listening.”

“Good.” Ventresca continued, satisfied to not have to have a longer more complicated scene just to convince someone to do their job properly and build even more unnecessary time wasting tension3. 

“Now this morning I received a call from Garbriel Lumano4of CERN laboratories. Saying they were missing their device and they believe a group, The Illuminati, had taken it from them and planned to use it as a weapon to destroy the holy city. The device has antimatter in it which is why it wouldn’t be picked up by our sensors. The professor here is the world’s leading expert on this group and has been hired by CERN to retrieve the device. Not long after the CERN call I received another call. I was able to record a bit of it on my phone but to be honest I’m not sure if I did a good job, since I was recording my office phone on speaker and- oh you know what, here let me just play for you what I have.”

Ventresca pulled out his iphone and found the voice file. “-Yes we’re very much real I can assure you.” The voice was unsurprisingly augmented and had a scrambled computerized tone to it This also could have been partly due to the jostling sounds in the background that Ventresca had accidentally added when trying to find a good place to put the recording device. 

“What do you want?” The Camerlengo’s voice was now clear on the recording. 

“Listen carefully Camerlengo. Our group represents science and all of men’s quest for knowledge and answers. Throughout centuries the church has thrown such truths away, manipulated them for your politics. In your greed you’ve digressed the path of innovation for mankind and for that we’re taking our revenge. We’ll give you a chance though. Chance, like life, is random. But you don’t believe in chance now do you? No you believe in faith, in God. We’ll see if it’s in your god’s plan to lose the holy city and the very foundation of your church. Where Peter laid the first stone this ancient covenant will soon be in pieces5. I will call again when your guest has arrived Camerlengo, he’ll be your only chance.”

The call ended. “Before I began recording they mentioned they were responsible for stealing the antimatter from CERN, killing a scientist, and bringing the antimatter here. They said they were part of a group called The Illuminati. I said “But the Illuminati aren’t actually around anymore! They’re a joke, they’re not real.” and that’s when I was able to start the recording” 

Aziraphale was about to speak when the phone rang. The group turned to look at the pearly white modern take on a rotary phone, hesitating. Ventresca gathered himself and calmly answered it on the third ring. 

“Camerlengo Ventresca speaking.”

“Camerlengo, it seems as though your guest is later than expected.”

“Well yes,-” Ventresca eyed Crowley suspiciously suddenly remembering that only Mr. Fell had been mentioned.

Crowley, seeing this, smiled while gesturing under the table, waving the thought from 

Ventresca’s mind entirely. 

“-He was delayed. Now I would-”

Olivetti interrupted, “The Church and The Swiss Guard will not stoop to your prankster blackmail!”

“Ah Commander I see you’ve joined us as well, interesting. I thought you’d be busy searching for your missing cardinals. Shame that they won’t be joining you today.”

“How do you know about the Cardinals?!” Olivetti’s voice rose, irate that he was being mocked by what sounded like a smug robot. 

Ventresca looked shocked, then furious. “What’s happened to the cardinals?! Why wasn’t I made aware of this Commander?!”

Crowley almost whistled but Aziraphale stopped him with a quick finger pressed to the demons lips, reminding him to not be heard. Afterall they still weren’t certain who was on the line. Where his finger was placed he felt the warmth of Crowley’s mouth, even with the demon suddenly forgetting to breathe. Remembering himself, Aziraphale quickly dropped his hand again. Crowley blushed as the finger retreated back to the angel’s side. Very happy to have his now dilated pupils covered by his glasses. 

Amid the quick flirtation the caller continued. 

“I took the cardinals Camerlengo. Cardinal Ebner, Cardinal Lamassé, Cardinal Guidera, Cardinal Baggia, all four of your preferiti. This isn’t blackmail for you see we have no demands Your city will fall at midnight, and your Cardinals will face public execution one by one before that time.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of La Purga, Camerlengo.”

Crowley suddenly grew nervous.

“The church has condemned and arrested scientists before, scientists who were forced to hide their studies and their works deep within the works of Rome. But La Purga was a warning against science. Branding scientists with the cross, leaving their bodies in the streets.” 

“These were not Illuminati, but they were our fathers whose martyrdom and theories are as close as we know to worship. For years we have studied their secrets and have come to know their pain. As they were killed and branded with the shame of the church, so shall your cardinals be branded with the Illuminati’s four brands, and sacrificed on the altars of science.” 

"shit.” Crowley said under his breath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 21.
> 
>   1. https://www.catholic.org/news/hf/faith/story.php?id=70105 Look if you want to know what the pope’s bedroom (or office?) looked like 3 years ago, you’re in luck!
> 22\. 
>   2. https://www.cnn.com/2018/04/10/europe/catholic-church-most-controversial-popes/index.html If you want to get a quick briefing on some shitty popes! Including Urban VI!
> 23\. 
>   3. Dan Brown created more chapters just by trying to explain the same few concepts to people repeatedly. Half of the tension in the first half of the book is “BUT VITTORIA IS WEAR SHORTS” and “I’M THE COMMANDER THERE IS NO BOMB THREAT WERE PERFECT AND I’M PERFECT”
> 24\. 
>   4. L’umano is “The human” in Italian, Gabriel isn’t this clever, he used google translate.
> 25\. 
>   5. Jacques Monod was a French biologist and atheist. He once wrote “The ancient covenant is in pieces, man at last knows that he is alone in the unfeeling immensity of the universe, out of which he emerged only by chance.” When I was writing this I was reminded of this quote and I felt like the Illuminati would go there in their tangents against the church.
> 



	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole conversation took many chapters. I mean they were Dan Brown chapters, but still there was a lot of time wasted on this time sensitive mission. I think we can move it along here.

#  **12**

If you were to look up the definition of time on the internet and not a large book (filled with words you're not sure you have time for since you're still unsure what time really is), you’d mostly find something like this: 

_Time: The indefinite continued progress of existence and events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole. 1 _

Crowley tended to forget about the whole for a few reasons. For one, it was very hard to keep track of and two tempting is much harder when you try to be logical about it. Unlike other demons Crowley didn’t live to temp but tempted to live. The issue here was he found that living is much harder when you have to deal with the long domino chain of consequences that often come with your tempting. In these moments the demon would suddenly remember the whole, this was one of those moments, he never liked these. 

" It never happened2.” Crowley whispered to the angel near his shoulder. Olivetti had interrupted again for a tangent on how the Illuminati could never have infiltrated the Swiss Guard, so he figured he had time. 

“What are you talking about?” Aziraphale, whispered back. He didn’t want to be rude but the conversation had turned into a contest of influence between Olivetti and the caller, and the angel had been beginning to zone out. 

“La Purga. It never happened. I made it up. Had to get a quick temptation in before getting on to Sweden3.Told the story to a few painters, some scientists, figured it would have been enough to start a riot or two against the church." 

Aziraphale did not look at all surprised. 

“You know I could never find any truthful eye witnesses to La Purga, or a solid account of who had actually been murdered. I thought it had simply been public rumors to slander the church.We never bothered looking too much into it.”

“That’s my point. It’s all rumors.” He saw Ventresca side eye them, still listening to the caller drawl on about the Illuminati’s immeasurable power and influence while Olivetti argue back the Swiss Guard’s strength and his own experience. 

The demon continued, lowering his voice. “So whatever they think happened is a lot more ..uh. human, than what I told them .” 

“Well then we’ll simply have to stop them, or we could, if we could stop this. Hold on dear..”

“I THINK THAT’S QUIET ENOUGH OF THAT” 

The debate between the commander and the caller quieted. 

Crowley smiled _Thatta angel, let’s get on with it_

“Where do you plan on carrying out these executions and how much time do we have?”

“I’ve already told you _where_ Mr. Fell. As for _when_ the first one will be at 8pm and hour by hour they will die until finally the church itself crumbles. I won’t take up any more of your time. You don’t have much of it left anyway.” 

With that the caller hung up. 

Camerlengo Ventresca looked at the clock. 6:30PM. Panicked, he looked at Aziraphale and Crowley for answers. 

“Do you know what they were talking about when they said they had already told you?”

Aziraphale thought back to the conversation, hoping he hadn’t missed anything important when he was talking to Crowley. After a moment he spoke. 

“Well there is a chance, and I’m not certain but they might have been referencing a physical path of enlightenment. It’s all art history and theory, but it’s said that scientists and artists hid a path throughout Rome with a series of clues that eventually lead to an underground meeting place where the thinkers could share their works and theories. The path was designed with two rules, they had to be pieces that the church wouldn’t suspect and they had to be designated to one of the four elements. Supposedly they called them _The Altars of Science_. The idea was if you found the first one, earth, it would lead you into the of the second one, air, the third, fire, the fourth, water, and then finally the meeting chamber.”

“Why wouldn’t they just tell each other the spot. Why the art network system?” Ventresca asked 

“Well I suppose it was to be for security, but really it just all seems sort of pretentious...though they were also artists so they did have a flair for dramatics. Still I’m-”

The Commander interrupted. “-Say this is all true and there is some ancient secret art network, how do we know it can still be traced? Where would you even start?” 

“Well to be perfectly honest I’m not sure where to start looking for earth. There was said to be something written to start them off. A sign or a cLUE!!. OH MY! OF COURSE, HE-” Aziraphale stopped himself mid ramble, remembering the whole of his company. 

Crowley recognized the look his clever angel wore and was beaming. He was always amazed how he could put things together so fast...well most things. Things he didn’t want to ignore for the last 6,000 years anyway.

“-uh a student of mine once asked for, er a copy of Galieleo’s Discorsi, which not to be confused with his Dialogo, was said to be written at the same time as he wrote another book The Diagramma della Verita, or Diagram of Truth4. It was published in Holland and handed out amongst scholars there before making it back to Rome in the hands of particular scientists interested in sharing their knowledge here. Anyway, it's said that that work had an odd passage in it, which could be il sengo, the sign to lead to a meeting place for scientists in hiding at the time.” 

“Why not all just meet in Germany?” Olivetti scoffed, clearly not believing any of the angel’s history lesson.

This time Crowley answered, clearly done with the commanders interruptions “Probably had something to do with the fact that most of these scientists were also artists and the most profitable patron was the same institution that was denying their theories.”

Olivetti opened his mouth and then shut it, though he was still clearly irritated. 

Camerlengo Ventresca was growing impatient. “Alright then how does this help us? We don’t have much time. Where is this “truth” even located”

  
“Actually Camerlengo, if I’m correct, it is very conveniently located right here, in the Vatican's private5 archives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 26.
> 
>   1. I just googled definition of time.
> 27\. 
>   2. Dan Brown made this all up and you can read more about why La purga is really ridiculously wrong below but I’ll leave you with this little quote from an interview on his website, also cited in the article below. “My goal is always to make the characters and plot be so engaging that readers don’t realize how much they are learning along the way.” -Dan Brown, a real dud of a writer who writes more history inaccuracy than truth. Honestly there is really nothing in this book that you can read and know that it’s 100 fact and not weighted down by fiction. http://decentfilms.com/articles/fact-checking-brown 
> 28\. 
>   3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sveriges_Riksbank Centralized banking and the Swiss banks we know famously today, were first set up in 1668. While Crowley was not the first to set up banks in general he was very much a part of setting up central banking. On one hand it annoyed him how humans were so bad at keeping their money secure, on the other hand he wanted to make it harder for humans to access their money in general since that seemed annoying enough. It also bothered him how unorganized their currency was, since they love the stuff so much it should at least be somewhat standardized. He later found the whole process rather annoying but he still does take some pride in the system. I had more written here about this but cut it for flow. I’m adding it here because I liked the head cannon and now know a bit too much the history of central banking to not add it. 
> 29\. 
>   4. Dan Brown really wanted to name all of these books in this round about way just to make Robert Langdon sound very smart. He really could have just said “Hey I think The sign is in this book called the Diagram of Truth of truth” and Vittoria could have been like “Rad, lets go get that then” instead of all this.
> 30.
>   5. If I had to read one more paper that said: “In reality, however, the Vatican’s Secret Archives are not actually secret. The word “secret” comes from a misunderstanding of the Latin word “secretum,” or private.” and then wrote “secret archives” in this fic I would have felt weird about it. Dan Brown probably saw this a few dozen times and ignored it because eh, secrets are fun? I'm not trying to understand this man, I'm just trying to call him out. https://www.history.com/news/step-into-the-vaticans-secret-archives 
> 



	13. Chapter 13

#  13

If you were to look up the definition of time in a large book you might find something like this;

_ Time: a measured or measurable period, a continuum that lacks spatial dimensions.  _

Or in a very different large book something like this;

_ Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so _ _.1 _

Whether time was a continuum or an illusion didn’t particularly matter to Aziraphale. What did matter was when it caught up to him. In these moments the angel would suddenly remember time was very much on his side. This was one of those moments, he always liked these2 . 

The angel had once visited a man named Galileo Galilei in his confinement. Heaven had tasked him to persuade the scientist to rescind his theories and instead teach god’s word. They were all getting a bit uneasy with the advancements humans were making. Sure today it was tides and telescopes, but tomorrow? Tomorrow it could be antimatter! Aziraphale had not liked this assignment in the slightest, it all felt very, well not wrong obviously, but he didn’t understand why it was such a big deal. Humans were going to pursue science and knowledge no matter what. If they eventually figured it out they’d know god was behind it. (He held back his opinions on how he didn’t think humans having antimatter was such a problem since they couldn’t use it they way angels did. That one felt a bit more inappropriate to say) Still, Sandalphon had been adamant about the assignment and so he had gone to see Galilei and found him working on something interesting.

**1634 AD**

“Hello Seniore Galilei. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Galileo jumped and turned around, startled by the interruption to his work. He thought he had heard his quill and ink fall over in his shock but when he looked again they were arranged neatly on the top of the desk, oddly organized for just dropping out of his hand. He took in the man before him, incomprehensibly blonde with a round smiling face. 

“May I come in?”

The scientist nodded wordlessly, not sure how the man had gotten in with the guard perched outside his home, house arrest did not entail many visitors. 

Aziraphale walked over to the desk, his pristine white attire was quite fashionable and Galileo assumed he was some sort of nobleman. He was so entranced that he didn’t notice when the man began reading his current work, which was supposed to be a complete secret. 

“What are you working on?”

Galileo refocused and quickly sntached away the paper. 

“Nothing! Uh- just some scribbles of a religiously devout old man in his last days…”

Aziraphale’s demeanor grew warm and Galileo couldn’t help but feel like smiling. The man, whose name he now realized was Ezra Felliani, was meant to be here. Of course he could tell him what he was working on. 

“Well you’re trustworthy so I’ll let you in on it. I’m writing a paper called Le Diagramma della Verita. It’s not going to be published here and chances are if you’re not in the scientific community you’ll never read it. However, it’s a very important part of leading a group of scientists to a meeting place. The only issue is I have to write the clue for it and I’m not sure how to go about that.”

Ezra Felliani thought for a moment. “Have you thought of maybe a poem?”

“A poem? No I hadn’t. I don’t know much about writing poetry”

“Oh well how about I show you an easy scheme, surely you’ve heard of Iambic pentameter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30.
> 
>   1. https://www.britannica.com/science/time, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy- Douglas Adams
> 31.
>   2. Whether or not time is lunch does particularly matter to Aziraphale. A few of his favorite restaurants close for lunch so he always tries to keep lunch time in mind. 
> 



	14. Chapter 14

# 14

“Camerlengo I’m going to need access to The Private Archives immediately.” 

The Camerlengo frowned. “Access to the archives is strict I’m afraid1.” 

“Quite right, but papal mandate can give access to them, and I do believe you now hold care for that position Camerlengo.” The angel tried to not sound too smug 

“And you’re certain the document is here?”

“Absolutely.”

“Mr. Fell I would die for this church but I will not allow the same faith for the cardinals or anyone else in these walls tonight. I will grant you access to the writings you need to solve this but I need you word that you are willing to do everything in your power to stop this group.”

“You have my word Camerlengo Ventresca.” 

The two shook hands. 

“Do you know where the archives are located?”

Aziraphale thought but before he could answer Crowley chimed in with a mock academic impression. 

“They’re behind Santa Ana Gate of course2., though **_most_** scholars believe they’re behind St. Peter’s Throne. That is **_actually_** _L’Archivio Storico Generale della Fabbrica di San Pietro_.3.” 

The Camerlengo looked unimpressed because all of this could easily be found on a tour map. 

“Yes, that’s right. Very well then, I will have the guard walk you there while I discuss security matters with Commander Olivetti. When you’ve found what you’re looking for let us know and the guard will accompany you to the first alter.”

“Right! Yes! Thank you Camerlengo!” The angel was all too giddy for someone about to go on a time sensitive mission with lives on the line. 

He turned to Crowley. “Off we go then?”

The demon smiled and gestured in an “after you” motion. 

The commander followed them out to speak with the two guards who would be escorting the pair now as guests instead of intruders. Guests or not he still didn’t trust two odd ball scholars who had conveniently made their way to the Holy Office and inserted themselves into his security investigation. As the group walked away the commander watched them. They seemed to know a lot more than they were letting on. He made a note to keep an eye on them and quietly radioed to his security team to do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 32.
> 
>   1. https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/vaticancityandholysee/7772108/The-Vatican-opens-its-Secret-Archives-to-dispel-Dan-Brown-myths.html The Vatican opened up the archives to journalists after Dan Brown made them seem like a super wild top secret library. The funny thing is they didn’t give them full access sooo maybe they are in some ways? Either way I found it funny how many people go about correcting Dan Brown and all the trouble they have to go through for it. Relatable.
> 33\. 
>   2. In the book it’s a big impressive that Robert Langdon knows this. There are so many parts coming up where RL knowing something is VERY IMPRESSIVE and HOT. If Dan Brown did add footnotes, they might as well have been: 32\. Swoon 33\. Swoonier 34\. What a tall glass of literate water! Am I right ladies?
> 34\. 
>   3. “This archive is for one of the Vatican institutions, The Fabric of St. Peter, which deals with the history of the Vatican’s architecture and construction. Anyway if you want to learn more about The Fabric of St. Peter and their influence (which I found to be pretty neat) you can read the journal below. Or just their wiki page here. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fabric_of_Saint_Peter https://www.academia.edu/9994722/The_Long_Arm_of_the_Fabbrica_Saint_Peters_and_the_City_of_Rome https://catholicarchivesociety.org/training-events/visits/visit-to-rome-october-2011/ List of archives at the vatican because there are more than two and that’s interesting as well.
> 



	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! Sorta! I promise this story is far from dead and hopefully, I'll have a few more chapters up soon after this one. The biggest issue I had was deciding if I was going to go along with Dan Brown's dumb path idea or rewrite a poem and create a new path. I figured something out and I hope you like where this all goes.  
> Enjoy some angst, some fluff and some art history in the chapters to come! 
> 
> As always thanks to Fay_the_gay for betaing!
> 
> Thank you all for your comments, support and for reading this wild ride of an adaptation in the first place!

# 15

Art and the archives, this was a reason Aziraphale was so adamant about the Vatican not being blown up with an antimatter turned accidental superweapon. Between its museums and the basilica, the Vatican housed the world's largest art collection, which for historical importance demanded preservation. Whatever the angel thought of the church, he had to give it credit for its careful diligence in both it’s written archives and it’s architectural upkeep. Just the private archives alone contained 35,000 volumes in the catalog,1 a treasure trove of history and heavy reading. Sure most of it was personal papal correspondences, but there were some interesting more private bits of history recorded there as well. Trials records, confiscated documents, letters from Henry the 8th to all his wives, official vacation itineraries (and lunch menus), and a well curated collection of papal birthday cards throughout the ages (most of which had either never been read or had the checks slipped inside them cashed out before ever returning a thank you correspondence). 

As they walked Crowley made it so the guards were not interested in listening to their conversation while Aziraphale explained his previous encounter with Galileo. The demon listened, interested, and not the least bit concerned about time. 

“Well that’s simple enough, right? Look for a poem, pop on over to the alters, and have this all sorted out by breakfast. Care for cappuccinos at Piazza Navona?” 

“That sounds lovely dear but I’m afraid of heaven popping in and catching you and I-in- in cahoots.”

“Cahoots? Angel, the church isn’t on either of our sides. I can just leave and you can say, oh I don’t know, ‘Oh wow demons sure are running amuck here, it’s a good thing heaven sent me here to take care of this. Honestly, you’re lucky to have me!’ Or something like that. Besides, I’m not _helping you._ I’m here doing my own thing, and I can just say I’m trying to stop you and you’re trying to stop me. It’s worked every time before.”

“Well, I suppose. But-”

“But nothing angel! Relax! Enjoy Rome! When was the last time we were both here?” 

The angel blushed and avoided Crowley’s eyes. 

“Both here...together?... Er... Oh my, it has been some time, hasn’t it? 

The conversation stopped as the guard did, right at the entrance to The Private Vatican Archives. “I’ll wait out here.” the guard said not looking either of them in the eye. 

“Excellent. Thank you! Back in a jiffy!” The angel's voice rang with excitement and he turned to the door. 

Aziraphale paused.

“Right. In we go.” 

He hadn’t been here in quite some time, and he certainly didn’t have the clear unrestricted access last time as he did now. Not only that but it certainly hadn’t had the bunker and climatized rooms that had been added in more modern times.

They entered the reading rooms, the first of which had a university lecture room look about it. No mural or relics, just long tables, and desk lamps. The well lit room didn’t have a book or record in sight. The two walked, in passing through the parted sea of tables to the door on the other side. The next part of the reading rooms was much dimmer and had the feel of a university library. Rows of shelves both metal and wood displayed large volumes, most of which were bound in white. The shelves from the entrance created a short funneled path that opened up to a common area. Here there were two long tables for reading and research, and conveniently, a map of the rest of the archives. 

Aziraphale began tracing his finger along the path.

“So it looks like we can skip the Wind Tower and the Diplomatic floors above, and from here there should be a path that leads to the Lofts. From there we can get to the bunker and then the climatized rooms.” The angel’s finger stopped at a square room at the bottom of the map. “That is where La Diagramma is located. In one of the two climatized rooms.”

The demon lowered his glasses to look over the map and Aziraphale caught a peek of his golden eyes. They really were lovely despite how much Crowley despised them. They showed his emotions more than any other expression he could make. No matter what Crowley pretended to feel (or not feel) his eyes could easily give it away. Suddenly the angel missed their moments in the book shop. Talking for hours, a few bottles of wine between them and Crowley, sprawled out on the loveseat, arm draped over the back. His glasses would come off and oh, Aziraphale remembered gazing, watching the demon's eyes blossom like sunflowers in surprise and delight, narrow with concern, the spark in them when he laughed. And oh lord he was staring now wasn’t he?! Crowley cleared his throat and the angel quickly looking away, as Crowley pushed his glasses back up and straightened himself. 

“Er. Right. Well, won’t be an archive if we don’t get a move on. Lead the way.” 

“Yes! Of course! Off we go!”

The two worked their way through the maze of shelves in the reading rooms to the back door leading to the lofts. The staircase was narrow and the two maintained an almost awkward silence as their footsteps echoed loudly on the linoleum.

“Why do we have to go up the stairs to get to a bunker is beyond me.” Crowley said, breaking the silence. 

“Well dear, I’m sure they have to accommodate for the architectural foundation of the city as is. Adding new rooms to a historical archive can’t be an easy feat.” The angel’s stride was fairly fast and Crowley had to push himself a bit more to keep up. 

“What? Couldn’t bother with an elevator? Aren’t popes supposed to be old?” 

“Oh look we're here!”

“Goody.” 

The lofts were even dimmer than the reading rooms and crowded with large red, green and grey volumes on metal shelving. They followed these for a bit before reaching a large red double door, one part of which was ajar. 

Walking through, Aziraphale squinted and shielded his eyes from the sudden change to bright fluorescent lighting. Crowley hadn’t even noticed the change but smiled at the angel’s squinting, remembering how much he hated fluorescent lighting. 

They were on an upper landing, and below them was the bunker. The space below them was a warehouse of white-painted concrete, it looked more like a CERN storage room than part of the holy city's archives. Seemed the two had something in common after all. 

Aziraphale made his way for the stairs and Crowley followed suit, going down was much easier. They stopped at the door and entered the code the Camerlengo had given them before they left. 

Buzzing, the door unlocked and they entered. The stark white room didn't show any signs of actual books at first glance. Instead of the shelves and volumes, they had grown used to seeing on their self lead tour, rows of long white filing cabinets filled the room. 

“Foil bins, of course, they wouldn’t have it bound. Actually this makes things easier.” The angel headed for the first cabinet and took a look at its labeling, then moved on to the next one. 

“Angel don’t tell me you're going to look at them all. Isn’t there a catalog around here?” The demon started glancing around the room and his eyes fell on a computer near the door they had just entered. 

“Here!” The demon turned on the computer and was about to miracle the passcode when he heard the angel from across the room.

“Got it!” 

When the demon walked over to meet him he saw Aziraphale had opened one of the cabinet drawers and was slowly and delicately paging through the 300 year old document. It was a miracle he could touch it so easily without damaging it. 

“Well that was fast.”

“I’ve spent most of my time on earth in libraries dear, I think I can figure out a thematic system that uses proximity markers.2.

“Er, uh right... Wait why thematic why not just chronologically, or by author?”

“Well some of the works have unknown authors and imprecise years of origin so that sort of system simply wouldn’t do for a collection like this.” 

“Huh, well done.”

“Thank you.” The angel tried not to blush as he continued scanning the pages. 

“Wait go back.” The angel turned the page back and the demon pointed to a small footnote at the bottom of the page. 

_*The path of light is laid, the sacred test_

“English. That’s convenient.”

“Well, either I had something to do with that or he chose to write it in a language that science and the church didn’t care much to read.3.

“Look there are others!” Crowley pointed at the three other lines written in the margin, top, and left parts of the page. They were all barely visible but could be read if you had an idea what you were looking for. 

The angel rotated the document, the lines a breath on his lips as he read them. Finally, he spoke. 

“Crowley write this down for me please?”

The demon fetched a pad and pen by the computer and came back. 

“Ready when you are”

Aziraphale began.

_From Santi’s earthly tomb with demon’s_

_hole,_

_‘Cross Rome the mystic elements unfold._

_The Path of light is laid, the sacred test,_

_Let angels guide you on your lofty quest. 4. _

“Well the first one is easy,” Crowley said, now smiling.

“Fancy a trip to the Pantheon angel?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm attempting to learn basic HTML for this so thanks for your patience as you deal with these awkward footnote experiments. I hope to go back when I'm done with this and fix them all for easier reading but until then it's holding up the putting out chapters process so they're just going to be a bit wanky. 
> 
> 35.
> 
>   1. http://www.archiviosegretovaticano.va/content/archiviosegretovaticano/en.htmlCheck out the archives website if you’re interested in what they do with all this. Mostly preservation. Probably some conspiracy but they don’t have a page for that on their main site. No birthday cards or the other things I jokingly mentioned (probably). 
> 36\. 
>   2. I had to look this up to see if it was a viable way to organize the archives, it was, but I don’t trust like that. http://digitalhumanities.org:3030/companion/view?docId=blackwell/9781405103213/9781405103213.xml&chunk.id=ss1-4-5&toc.id=0&brand=9781405103213_brand I also looked at what the hell it meant. 
> 38\.  Dan Brown talks about English, next to math, being “La Linga Pura”, which didn’t sit well with me. So I followed that feeling and it turns out he was dead wrong anyway. English wasn’t really picked up by scientists until after WWI. Anyway if you’re interested, check out the link. https://www.pri.org/stories/2014-10-06/how-did-english-become-language-science  39\. 
>     1. After much consideration, the reason this all took far too long. I decided to not rewrite an entire poem. I really couldn't bother with iambic pentameter. I'm pretty sure Dan Brown has someone ghostwrite this poem for him.
>   
>  



	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the AGNST 
> 
> We're in the thick of it finally! Look! Adventure! Mystery! Suspense! 
> 
> Here's some perspective, an average novel chapter averages around 4k words, with most action/mystery novels going for about 3k. Dan Brown chapters average around 1,100 words.  
> WTF dude. 
> 
> It doesn't even help the pacing! Look this isn't an anti-short chapter rant. I have mad ADHD so I can appreciate plenty a stopping point and marker, but there gets to a point where It just unnecessarily interrupts the flow. Dan Brown books are the cable tv of action novels. There are so many breaks you just give up and go to Netflix. 
> 
> Dan Brown is at Chapter 62 by the end of my chapter here, which to be fair he has some other stuff going on that I cut out. BUT ALSO, I cut it out for good reason, so maybe everything he does is entirely unnecessary. I think I'll be sticking with Dan Brown length chapters or a bit longer from here on out, because hey parody am I right folks?

# 16

If you’ve never been to The Pantheon, it’s hard to imagine the weight of history you feel as you approach. If you have been, however, and you weren’t too distracted by the flocks of pigeons or street performers selling “magic” fuzzy worms.1Then looking up you can get a small sense of what it is like to be an ethereal being who has witnessed all of history as a single lifetime. 

Despite their unusual perspective on the scope of history, the pair had never really been good about judging what would happen next. Sure history repeated itself but just like humanity as a whole it often revealed unexpected outcomes. The two, in their earlier meets, had occasionally talked about which landmarks, monuments, temples, etc. would actually hold up to the test of time. They, of course, had their favorites; The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, The Library of Alexandria, just to name a few, but if you had asked either of them if the pantheon would have stayed they both would have told you otherwise. Rome, of course, would fall and dissipate completely. They had seen great empires fall many times before only to have their names and histories rewritten by the conquerors. Yet Rome had been a fluke of flexibility. The city was changed by time and church, but it still held on to so many places the two had once strolled by, absentmindedly, almost 2,000 years prior. 

The Pantheon lies at the end of La Piazza Della Rotonda. Once cast in bronze, it’s now been stripped of its armor and looks patchy in color, with ancient browns, reds, and grays. It is cracked and eroded in places, but many repairs have been made over the years to keep it structurally sound. A triangular roof awning is held up with a series of columns, in bold lettering, the awning reads ‘Marcus Agrippa, son of Lucius, in his third consulate, made it.’ but if you don’t read Latin it says M. AGRIPPA L. F. COS. TERTIUM FECIT2. 

From where the two entered the piazza they could see the side view of the temple. The famous large dome crowned the top of the body, looking like a four-tiered cake made of stone. Aziraphale, not distracted by this particular cake, walked ahead and in the sunlight Crowley once again saw that glow.3.Like a halo in the angel’s hair. He thought back to their time in St. James's Park, how he would look for that light. He had looked for light when he fell and had looked for it again when the angel had left.

It went like this, sitting on their bench he’d remove his sunglasses, close his eyes, and lean back to take in the sun. And in the glow that landed on his closed gazed he felt the angel there. Found his halo and heat in the sunlight between mind and memory. God had never been in the sun with him, but Aziraphale had been countless times. How do you tell an angel he shines brighter than God? How fast would it be to say he’s light itself?4.

“Honestly Crowley, could you saunter a little faster on this time-sensitive mission you’ve invited yourself to?”

The demon saw Aziraphale much further on and decided to remember where they were. 

“I’m coming.” Crowley gave a slight smile and picked up the pace, meeting the angel at the foot of the temple. 

Together they walked into the spacious rotunda, crowded by end of the day tourists. 5.The natural light from the opening in the dome was still bright enough to illuminate the reds, greens and whites of the mixed marble making up the walls and floor of the structure. Columns, once white but now discolored with age, stood out proudly along the sides of the building, framing the statues, tombs, and frescos along the walls. A few rows of curved pews were set up at the front for an alter to now only one god in particular. All the same, she did not dwell there. 

“So what now? We just wait?” Crowley looked at his watch which read 7:45 pm

“Well, I would prefer we save the cardinal, Crowley, not just wait for him to fall from the sky.”

“Going to keep your eye on the demon’s hole here angel or take a closer look?” Crowley’s smile widened at his own joke but shrank as soon as he noticed the angel had ignored him. 

Aziraphale scanned the rotunda, “You should look for the next alter marker, something to point towards the air tomb, a hand or an angel or something elemental. And yes I’ll go up and keep an eye on the portico.” 

With that, the angel disappeared into the crowd and out of sight, “better than your coin tricks” Crowley mumbled before taking a look around the dome. He started on the right wall from where they had entered. 

_I’m guessing it can’t be something that would have been moved,_ he thought as he passed an angel statue that looked to not have been in that exact spot since the 1600s. 

_Not even sure how the damn group has managed to keep this path going. Do they have people actively preserving exact statue placements? Seems like a lot of work, even for a secret society._

He made his way around the building, stopping at the tomb of Raphael. It was encased in glass, but Crowley had touched it long before then. How many times had he traced his fingers along the engraving on the edge of the marble sarcophagus? He knew the line by heart now.6.

_“Here lies that famous Raphael by whom Nature feared to be conquered while he lived, and when he was dying, feared herself to die._ _”_

**_1519 A.D._ **

"You're moving more than usual today. What's on your mind?" The painter placed his brush gently to the side. Every move he made was precise, but not stiff. Whether he was touching a paintbrush, sipping his wine or comforting a friend, Raphael Sanzio was always gentle. 

"It's nothing. You can keep going." Crowley was sitting poised in merchant's clothes, a cap was over his long, wavy hair. The lighting by the window perfect for this time of day. 

"Well I know plenty of merchants with scowls, but I'm not sure that's the look I'm trying to go with here. Let's not play games, Anthony." 

Crowley shifted uneasily and then sighed. 

"Why do you keep working for them when you want to do more? I can feel them weighing on you. You barely have time to do the things you love anymore or focus on the more creative, inspiring projects you love! The Fabrica7.and the Basilica take all your time these days, and for what? To rope all of Rome into the power and materialism The Church actually stands for?”

“The Fabrica is-” Santi sighed and picked back up his brush, he looked down as he twirled it between his fingers. “Do you know what it’s like to be so loved, doted on, glorified even, but you still feel used? You feel like this infinite love is still somehow conditional? Anthony, I believe in God and trust in my faith but I am cautious. I was named for an angel which many associate with the glory of heaven, but Anthony I see it differently. You see even for all of heaven’s infinite love, the angels still fell. Love and glory, no matter how saving, can be just as damning and I am too far in at this point to not be damned if I leave. That would mean all the work I have done would be tainted, or worse, claimed by another.” The brush stopped. “So yes you can call it selling out and you can remind me that The Church and The Fabrica are not in the best faith but Anthony I would rather walk on eggshells than sulfur.”

Raphael looked up when he finished. He noticed the room was dimmer now, sunlight faded by cloud cover, yellow light changed to grey. In this new gray light, he saw the merchant’s scowl had been replaced with tear-soaked eyes and quiet sobs. The artist rose to join him. 

_**Present Day A.D.** _

It was around the time Santi died, that Crowley had for the most part given up on human closeness. Sure he had spent some time in the 1800s with Dumas and Hugo, posed for both Geefs around that time as well8.but the closeness he had felt with artists had not been the same after the Renaissance. The men who knew the tragedy of being both used by the church and glorified by it. Who had poured their hearts into their work just as he had poured his into the stars eons before. Crowley never related to humans more than when he was surrounded by their art. Even now as a demon he still was in awe of the gift of creation, even if that gift was used to make a convoluted path to a secret society of scientists planning to blow up the Vatican. 

He continued along the structure but found nothing to point the way of a path. Maybe Aziraphale was better suited for this and he was just missing something. He was about to make a third round when he heard a tour guide nearby. 

“Though Raphael is buried here this is not his only mausoleum. Though far less popular than the pantheon, Chigi Chapel was designed by Raphael who used both the pantheon as well as St. Peter’s Basilica as his inspiration for the tomb to the Chigi family. Now if you look over here…”9.

Crowley looked at his watch again, 7:58 pm. Something felt off and he was beginning to realize why. 

The angel Aziraphale stood on top of the Pantheon and waited. Surely this was the only way for someone to publicly execute a cardinal and escape without being seen. He had no clue how a human could possibly manage to make their way up here carrying a captive, but this was the Illuminati. The same group who had somehow managed to steal antimatter from an underground scientific facility. He knew he couldn’t underestimate them. 

He looked at his watch, 8:00 pm, any moment now. Suddenly he turned at a noise and took a readied stance, which was disrupted anyway when Crowley appeared right in front of him causing him to lose his balance. 

The demon caught him by the waist. Aziraphale looked up almost blushing before Crowley straightened him up, “Careful now angel, wouldn’t want you to fall into a demo-”

“-It wasn’t funny the first time!” Aziraphale was red-faced but focused on straightening his jacket. “I suppose I should thank you though, even if you were the one not looking where you were appearing.” 

“Right sorry about that. I realized though, we’re in the wrong place! There’s no ca-”

“-no cardinal, yes I know, but I haven’t the faintest clue where else the poem could be talking about! Raphael is buried right here!10.There is no other Santi worth noting and -”

Crowley made a gesture to get the angel to stop rambling. Aziraphale stopped. 

“I think I have an idea but it’ll take a miracle to get there with enough time to look for the next alter. Think you can get us to Santa Maria del Popolo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! These look much better than Chapter 15! Next I'll figure out links and URLs!
> 
>   1. https://speremint.tumblr.com/post/187088010960/everything-is-the-same-but-crowley-is-a-huge So here’s the thing they do sell those there and also this post made me think of this so here we are.
>   2. Want to learn all about this bad boy! Great here you goooooo https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/ap-art-history/ancient-mediterranean-ap/ap-ancient-rome/v/the-pantheon-rome-c-125 Also, its architecture http://www.romanconcrete.com/questions.htm 
>   3. Yes, I checked what time the sun would set for Rome in June.
>   4. Crowley is very cheesy. Dangerously so….  
>  (I can't remember if I made this joke before here, I make Cheetos and Cheesasaurus Rex references a lot in fanfic and daily life)
>   5. The Pantheon closes at 7:30 pm with the last admission being at 7:15 pm, however, Dan Brown did not think about this and so I’ll ignore it as well but still point it out How are you going to have your high chase action story take place this late in the day and still demand easy tourist access AND helpful tour guides to drive the plot? You can’t have both Dan!
>   6. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ECCHSUb2zLY 
>   7. So The Fabrica wasn’t officially established until 1523, after Raphael’s death (1520), however, restoration started in 1502 and Raphael was commissioned as the architect in 1514. So I am going to make the leap here that even though the title had not been made official yet there was a network of artists working with The Church on the Basilica and other Vatican efforts before the group was made an official Vatican institution. I use the title Fabrica here because it refers to the artist's side of the church. Also, I did far too much research on this network to not include it in here in some way or form.
>   8. The Geefs brothers did the sexy lucifer sculptures. If you don't want to read the links. Basically the church commissioned the first Geefs brother, Joseph Geefs to make a Lucifer statue, then when it was finished they said "Hey that lucifer sculpture is FAR TOO SEXY" so they commissioned the second Geefs brother, Guillaume Geefs, to make the Lucifer statue and he made it EVEN SEXIER. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_g%C3%A9nie_du_mal (2nd Statue) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:L%27ange_du_mal_(Joseph_Geefs)_cropped.jpg (1st statue) https://www.thevintagenews.com/2017/03/13/the-famous-statue-of-lucifer-was-installed-in-st-pauls-cathedral-in-liege-after-the-previous-statue-was-declared-too-seductive/ Oh Also: Dumas and Victor Hugo were buds, close buds. Rivals, to friends, to buds... http://www.dumaspere.com/pages/english/vie/proches/hugo.html 
>   9. So Dan Brown decided to go with Raphael being buried in Urbino first and then moved to the Pantheon, but ends up making the argument anyway that he designed the Chigi chapel and that’s why it’s his "earthly tomb", so why just make up this wrong fact for no reason? What was the point to go out of your way when you didn’t even use it? I hate this man. 
>   10. “No cardinal.”  
>  “No cardinal!”  
>  “Wrong tomb.”  
>  “Wrong tomb!” 
> 



	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes when I'm in a writing rut I go back and read comments and think man if I could fill a room with people who like this fic and hate Dan Brown it probably would be a pretty decent party. 
> 
> Thank you again for all your comments, kudos, and support! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter!

#  17 

“Ever been here?”

The two were standing at the doors to St Maria del Popolo, the small basilica that housed the chapel, hopefully with the next altar and a still breathing cardinal. It was closed for the day though tourists were still passing them by outside. 

“No but I know the history.”

Crowley went to push open the door. 

“Wait!”

Crowley stopped

“Shouldn’t you not? ”

“Angel, take a moment and feel it. Gods not in this one1. He started to push again 

“But! Itsn’t this one sort of made against demons?” 

Crowley dropped his hand

“Ngk I mean yes, it was founded on a story about Nero, some demons, and a walnut tree but it was all show really. Just another excuse for the church to show power. Never had a problem stepping into this one2. .”

He snapped his fingers and the doors opened. 

“Plus you’re gonna just loooove the aesthetic” 

As soon as the pair walked in Aziraphale immediately understood Crowley’s remark. 

“Oh my, this really is in poor taste isn’t it?”

“The punk show of the Basilicas angel! Watch your step!” 

The two walked across the uneven floor. Figures of those buried in the tombs below were carved into the worn white marble, as if you were walking on a floor made entirely of sarcophaguses. Aside from the macabre floor, the most striking feature was the recurring use of skulls. Frescos, columns, carvings, castings of gold, most implemented skulls in one way or another, the setting sun casting them in eerie light and shadow. 

Aziraphale walked slowly, forgetting the missions as he took in the artful depictions of death. 

“They almost find it beautiful.”

“What?”

“Death. I mean they focus on it so much, and they have such short lives as it is. It just seems like such..a waste.”

“Eh it’s more of a reminder really. ‘Memento Mori’, live fully because one day people are going to walk all over your tombstone. I’m sure if discorporation were just as permanent your lot would write fewer memos and more celestial harmonies about it3. ”

Aziraphale had stopped at a particular awning carved with a skull and a pair of wings. It felt almost angelic and very dead. He suddenly felt the weight of his corporeal form.

And then Crowley behind him.

“You’re looking at the wings aren’t you? It means swift death.” The demon's breath was hot in his ear and then it was gone. Crowley had turned to go. 

“Speaking of which! This way angel! Got a cardinal to find!” 

“Right yes.” the angel took one last look at the winged skull and turned to follow. 

“And keep your voice down will you! The caller could still be here!” It was more of a whisper than a shout but with the Basilica closed for the day, his voice rang out all the same. 

“Bit late for that!” Crowley called back. 

Aziraphale, wanted to be irritated but had to agree, they hadn’t really attempted a stealthy entrance, if someone was here they certainly would have heard them and could be waiting for them4. 

The two made their way to Chigi Chapel, a room much more intimate than Aziraphale had expected. It was dark with just enough light to show the fresco centerpiece above the Chigi sarcophagus. In the alcoves on either side of the fresco were statues. On the right was a statue of an angel and to the left a young man slinging a cloth over his shoulder5. 

Crowley pointed to the right “ Habakkuk and the Angel” then to the left “Jonah” and then up, “and Raphael built that.” He craned his neck and paused, taking in the dome. It’s a golden center stretching outward like sun, framing rich colorful frescos in shining decorative stucco rays. Yellow light shone through the encompassing windows illuminating it all6. 

_ “I won’t paint them this time but the designs are mine. Every angel holds a planet except for one, one angel holds the stars. You always talk about the heavens. So focused on the stars and planets, and yet you talked about the angels too, making them like art pieces only to be forgotten. You said, “how could they not care?” “Why not take pride in all of this?” For all your atheism, Anthony it’s your faith that inspired me here. If not in heaven then of the heavens, of the stars, of the world.”  _

“‘The Creation of the World’ is what he called it7, Crowley said after a minute

“You seem to know this chapel well.”

Crowley’s head fell back into its proper place. “Well sort of, Chigi was a bit of a prick, but I’d sometimes stop by to check in on Raphael’s work. The guy got on his nerves but he liked him enough and saw the project as a chance to be more creative. I just didn’t think he’d create something like this for him.”

Aziraphale couldn’t see the look behind Crowley’s glasses but his tone was more wistful than usual. 

“Ehrm well since you know the chapel so well would you rather look for the hole or the next alter indicator?”

“Huh? Oh right erm, the hole. I’ll check that one out.”

“We sort of missed the mark on this one though angel.” Crowley walked around the chapel scanning the walls. I mean the cardinal is probably de-” As Crowley’s boot tip caught on an uprooted stone, he fell forward only to be caught by the jacket in a strong angelic grip, which hauled him upright in one fluid motion. 

“Careful dear these floors can be very uneven.”

Crowley looked down at the crack 

“No angel, look, I think I found the hole.”

The pair looked at the large circular mosaic at the center of the chapel’s floor. A winged skeletal figure coward behind a large shield which was dramatic enough that someone might not pay mind to the left and right edges of the piece. Looking more closely the pair realized they had been chipped away on two sides creating a space to grip and pry up, sort of like a-

“Demon hole cover!” Aziraphale chirped, he looked almost excited as he lifted the marble slab without a bit of trouble. 

The heavy smell of death immediately hit the pair. Even with the bit of lighting down the crypt below was still not clear, however, the distance of the drop looked to be about 30 feet down. 

“Let there be light.”

“Do you always have to say that when- ooooh booy. Yeah, angel, the cardinal isn’t great.”

A ball of light glowed and drifted down and revealed the buried cardinal, looking to be quite dead. 

Aziraphale jumped down and ran to the half-buried corpse. He immediately began inspecting him. Crowley followed suit. 

“Cardinal Ebner was stripped naked, his hands bound behind his back, he was and forced fed soil, branded with the ambigram for earth and died about 30 minutes ago. His death was... not swift. And Crowley, I sense a demon.”

“Well I mean it is a demon’s hole, and I am a demon so honestly, it makes perfect sense why you’d-”

“No! I know what you smell like and it’s not this! I think hell really is involved here. Not just the Illuminati. Which means you could run into them!” 

“Angel we talked about this. I’m supposed to be here anyway and don’t worry about me, I’ll just leave at the first sign of trouble. Right? That’s what you’d do.” 

The angel pulled the body from the ground, miracled a ladder, threw the cardinal over his shoulder and began to climb wordlessly. 

Crowley kicked himself for his outburst, waited to give him space and then followed behind. When the demon stood at the top rung, he saw Aziraphale had pulled out a mobile. 

“Didn’t know you had a phone now.” 

“Well yes, they’re useful for audiobooks and the university makes me keep an email so this is just- hello yes Commander Oliverti? Hi yes- oh um see we didn’t have time to let you know where we were going exactly. Right yes, I can see you’re upset but I need you to listen…Right I understand commander but I have some impor-.. I am quite aware, however-...... ARE YOU QUITE DONE COMMANDER? Yes? Good, thank you. So we have found Cardinal Ebner, he’s been killed a half-hour ago at St Maria del Popolo in the Chigi Chapel. He was suffocated with dirt and branded with the Illuminati symbol for earth. No, we haven’t found the second alter but  I have an idea. We're-COMMANDER, We’re going to be on our way to the next alter but just in case I’m wrong about it I might suggest you lock up the wind tower at the Vatican. Well, it’s my second bet even though it doesn’t make too much sense. Right well, He’ll be waiting for you in the chapel. Sorry commander I have to go- It’ll all be stopped! We won’t let them get another! Toodaloo!”

“Sounded like a nice chat.” 

“It wasn’t and I’d rather not have it face to face so let’s get finding that second alter before the swiss guard arrives.” 

“I thought you said that you had some ideas?” Crowley had now emerged from the demon hole and was dusting himself off, noticing a gruesome stain on the angel’s jacket shoulder he walked over and cleaned that up as well with a wave of his hand.

“Oh. Thank you. I hadn’t even noticed that... right, uh that was mostly to bide time. I don’t think the Vatican's Wind Tower could be the next alter because of how inaccessible it is. However, there aren’t many air dedications I can think of so we’ll just have to look for the marker. 

“Let angels guide you on your lofty quest.” The angel muttered to himself as he began to scan the room. 

“Well seeing how we're in a chapel covered in them that should be real bloody si-”

“Ah! Here we go! Habakkuk and the Angel! They’re pointing! This obviously has to be it.” Aziraphale stood thinking about the statue’s pointed direction. 

While Crowley didn’t have a better idea there was something off about the statue, he wasn’t exactly convinced and then he remembered why. 

“Wait, Angel, I know this statue, it wasn’t put up here until after Galileo died. Early 1660’s. Why would the path of illumination have a poem written for it when the path’s first marker wasn’t even put in place yet?8. ” 

“Well maybe you’re off or maybe they knew it was going to be here and the path didn’t actually take up until after Gelileo died. These things take time you know.”

“You don’t think any of them are indicating the next direction?” Crowley pointed up at the angel clad dome. “The one holding stars is pointing a bit differently.”

“I mean yes it could be but this one seems a bit more direct don’t you think? Plus they’re sort of pointing in the same direction. I mean one is more north and one is more south but they’re both pointing west.” 

“Right. Fine, where do you think the next alter is? Based on- ” Crowley leaned back and sarcastically gestured in the direction the angel was pointing.”

“Well, we’re looking for air right? I believe St. Peter’s square is located in that direction, and that’s where the wind rose compass is.”

“Alright angel, your mission. Lead the way.” 

“I will! As soon as you show me how to get out of this Basilica!9.

Crowley smiled. “Right. This way, hurry up, time-sensitive mission and all.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. My beta Fay had this to say on this particular plot device I’ve used here. “me writing my parody of this parody: "Boy it sure is convenient that all the churches they go to aren't godly enough to harm Crowley" Look I’ll play around with magic and god but at least I’ll get a date right. I know your job is to @me but don’t @me. I'll @myself thank you very much <3 
>   2. Love an angsty death parish origin story. Also sidenote, Dan Brown refers to it as a cathedral, he is wrong. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Maria_del_Popolo 
>   3. Dan Brown really skipped the radness of Santa Maria del Popolo, he doesn’t mention how cool it is at all! Just covers it up with remodeling and they go in through a side door! Fucking lame dude! You could have added some real creepy vibes here. Anyway, if you’re interested in checking the aesthetic out there’s a video tour link below. It’s 3 parts, long and they don’t get to the chapel until part 2 but it gives you a good idea of what everything looks like and some cool history. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XwOOWr5atE 
>   4. I actually forgot they were supposed to be stealthy here, realized it too late and just said fuck it. Dan Brown had his characters go through a side door, our bois are gonna waltz right in.
>   5. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chigi_Chapel 
>   6. https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0b/Dome_Cappella_Chigi_from_inside%2C_Santa_Maria_del_Popolo%2C_Rome%2C_Italy.jpg 
>   7. After finding the history/description of this dome I couldn’t help but make some Crowley connections. It’s been nice exploring this side of our angsty/comfort-seeking boi. Please, won't someone just give this demon a hug! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Creation_of_the_World_(Raphael) 
>   8. *sad failing trombone sounds* Point against the path and we’re only on Alter One. Honestly, dude at least check your fucking dates for sculptures if you’re gonna create a path with them. You couldn’t even get THE START right?! The reason these chapters took so long is mostly because I had to figure out how to be accurate AND not completely try to redo the insane path idea Dan Brown decided to use. Nothing about having a path makes sense. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Habakkuk_and_the_Angel_(Bernini) 
>   9. Also here’s a google maps link to all the alter sites. http://bit.ly/DnAmap1 
> 



	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! I hope you're all doing well and staying as safe as you can right now.  
> I'm back and I'll be posting the rest of the chapters here in the next few days!  
> Thank you all for your patience. Let's finish this, shall we?

# 18

The large Egyptian obelisk that marked St. Peter’s Square was surrounded by a crowd of people waiting for the conclave’s results. Even with the sun down the square was lit up from a combination of street lights, camera flashes, and cellphones. Unfortunately for the two looking to see the compass rose markers, their task at hand was going to be a lot trickier. 

“Well, back where we started. Oi! THEY HAVEN’T PICKED ONE YET! YOU CAN COME BACK LATER!” 

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm and pulled the hollering demon along. 

“Really, Crowley must you always make a scene? I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Can take me where you like.” Crowley mumbled 

“What was that?”

“Nothing! See any dead cardinals around?!”

Aziraphale looked around the square and into the sea of people and press. Many were taking pictures, a few were on their phones. A man in tattered clothes was resting on the Obelisk with a collection can in front of him, a few euros peaking out. A couple, who apparently had an interesting taste in date locales, shared a kiss amongst the crowd while holding what the angel recognized as a selfie stick (Aziraphale’s students had gotten him one as a gag gift when he mentioned he hadn’t used his phone to take a ‘selfie’ before). 

“Aziraphale, is there something odd about that man there?”

The angel looked at the man resting on the obelisk again. He was wearing a long, worn and tattered coat, and a hat which blocked the view of his face. A combination of his attire, along with the collection can, made him appear to be homeless or in need of some sort of aid. Yet, his shoes were in perfect condition. They were a shining soft leather, and his socks were a bright striking red1

“Well he certainly has nice shoes, I think I’ll give him a coat to match. Sure he’ll be confused when he wakes up but I think it’ll be nice for-oh wait. Crowley, it’s summer, and he’s wearing a coat and hat!”

“THAT’S IT!” The demon rushed over to the man, willing people out of his way. Aziraphale swiftly followed behind. 

Upon closer inspection the two saw Cardinal Lamassé was blue in the face. Aziraphale took the man’s hand.

“He’s not cold yet, it’s only been a few minutes. Oh dear. His lungs, they’ve punctured them.” 

Aziraphale broke open the coat and saw the brand for air on Cardinal Lamassé as well as two small needle insertions on the cardinal’s sides. Both had small trails of blood flowing out2.

“Well I can also tell by his reading that he wasn’t really a good person. So while I don’t condone this sort of thing, I’m certainly glad he wasn’t going to be leading a large religious group. Your lot will have fun with him I’m sure.”

“Oi! I can’t believe I didn’t say another one bites the dust earlier! That would have been so good!” 

Aziraphale smiled wide and looked sideways at Crowley. 

“Well someone certainly took this one’s breath away”3.

Crowley looked dumbfounded at the angel, who’s proud moment was cut short by the fact that he realized he was making light of the dead. 

“Since when did you start listening-”

“Nevermind that! This certainly isn’t the time to make jokes. We were minutes away from saving this man’s life! We have to look for the next altar!” 

“Well angel, got any idea which one is pointing towards the next marker?” 

“I’ll look. You stay here with the Cardinal. I don’t want to call the Commander until we’re on to the next alter. They’d be here immediately.” 

Aziraphale began moving through the crowd around the Obelisk, he kept his phone light pointed toward the ground as he moved from windmarker to windmarker. Each direction depicted a face with wild hair blowing a gust of wind represented by five lines4. 

He looked up when he came back to the start, and made his way back to Crowley. Who was talking to the body, for appearances obviously, and not just because he had a lot on his mind. He stopped when he saw Aziraphale walking toward him. 

“Find anything?”

“Unfortunately I didn’t. Aside from the variation in eyes and face shapes there really is no distinction between any of them.”

“Could it be the eyes are pointing to the direction?”

“It has to point somewhere right? We did find a dead cardinal who has been branded so there is something to this path. I just thought it was going to be a lot more obvious if we knew what we were looking for. And then there’s another thing. I may be wrong about this, but I don’t actually think the wind markers were put here until much later.” 

“Shit. You’re right. Pius, oh what was his name IX, XI, whatever, added them in….”

“1852.5.;the two said simultaneously. 

“Well alright then, was there something to indicate wind before then? I mean they had to have picked this altar for a different air reason then and just made it obvious later. There must be-”

“Aziraphale.” Crowley stopped the angel and turned him. His tone was serious. “Something feels off about this”

“Well, of course, it feels off! We’re an angel and a demon playing Indiana Jones for antimatter!”

“No not that, well I mean yes that- wait you've seen Indiana Jones?- No never mind. That’s not my point. My point is, Art! Science! The Church! All of it! The Illuminati! I mean you said it yourself the Illuminati had nothing to do with Galileo, or Raphael, or any other artist or scientist of that time! So the Illuminati, who you knew, come about later and say they idolize these people and they know of their secret society and their illuminated light path or whatever. Right, and here’s a poem you are connected to saying there’s a path, and that they’re using this path to choose the sites of these planned public cardinal murders. Angel, do you think the Illuminati that you knew had secret connections going all the way back to this secret society, to the point that they have memorized this art poem path and that it somehow, WITH ALL THE CHANGES IN ROME, has not been compromised?” 

“Well it does all sound a bit of a stretch but-”

“And then there’s Raphael, Bernini and hell even Galileo! They all had their disagreements with the church sure, but they were all part of the system. They were paid and made icons through the church. The church used them and they used the church. They didn’t need a secret society to swap ideas and theories. They either kept those to themselves to publish or took on apprentices.” 

“Crowley, your point?”

“Galileo was on house arrest, he wasn’t going to any secret meetings. All he had to do was write a clue, the clue being the first place and then how to find the rest. Angels pointing or whatever, and then magically all these very eager scientists would follow this path that had been distinctly made for them? And now we’re supposed to be following it but none of it makes sense historically or otherwise. Think about it, we’ve gotten this far mostly on guess work, tripping on stones and from your own history. Aziraphale I don’t think someone is after the Vatican, I think someone is after you!” 

“Oh.”

“Think about it. A mission to save a huge archive of books and art. The Illuminati, a group you know well, and a poem you helped write? Heaven set you up!” 

  
  
  


“Heaven sent me on this mission! You can doubt them all you like, it’s what you do after all, but I will not doubt her trust in me. Besides! Even if someone is after me, it doesn’t matter.” The angel’s tone grew softer. “Crowley you saw that man, he was tortured, and for what? Because I couldn’t figure out a clue fast enough to save him. I failed and I’m an angel and we don’t fail so does that mean...”

“Aziraphale.” Crowley’s voice was soft and calming and the angel suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. It made him want to wrap his arms around him and hold him in all his anxiety, but instead he looked into the demon’s eyes now revealed by the slip of dark frames. Sunflowers follow the sunlight, why did it feel like the reverse right now?

“It’s not your fault. It never was, I promise. You’re so brilliant, angel. I know you’ll figure this out, we won’t let them hurt anyone else. ” 

And without words Aziraphale heard, 

_And I won’t let them hurt you_

“Crowley. I-.” 

The demon took his hand away from the angel’s shoulder and pushed his glasses back. He looked at his watch. 

“We have 30 minutes to find the next marker and make it with time to spare. Keep your eyes peeled.”

#  ……………..****..………………

In the early 19th century an angel and a demon made an arrangement. 

Strictly for business of course. But they had noticed something off about two of their subordinates. 

Beezelbub Prince of Hell had always had a feeling Crowley’s “plots” were too close to some of the assignments Heaven had been giving a certain principality. 

So needless to say he began to watch. Spotting them at a duck pond was all the confirmation he needed. He contacted Gabriel. 

The archangel Gabriel despised being contacted, as he much prefers to do the contacting. So he wasn’t pleased when he saw the incoming call was from the duke of hell. 

“Gabriel we have a problem”

“Of course we do. You’re a demon and I’m-”

“UGH! Fuck. No, a different problem you whinny little tart.”

“tart-I?”

“I caught Crowley fraternizzzing with your principality.” 

“So he’s tempting him? Well good luck on that part Aziraphale is the most basic-”

“No he wasn’t! That’zz my problem! He waz ENJOYING HIZZ COMPANY. I saw it! I saw..LOVE! The blasted creature wazz radiating love like a - like a-fucking.angel!!!” 

“Well in that case it looks like Aziraphale is absolving him of his demonic energy. In that case he’ll be nothing but a washed up-!”

“WOULD YOU LIZZTEN FOR ONE GOD-fuck SATAN- fuck FOR ONE SECOND!”

“Sure”

“So one of my demons wazz pathetically radiating LOVE somehow and YOUR ANGEL Aziraphale, wazz radiating LUST, love too sure, but if angelzz could give fuck me eyezz, well HE CAN. They’ve been exchanging energies for years, probably without even realizzing it! They’re both polluted! Something else entirely!” 

“Something else entirely? Oh no. That won’t do. Think of the chaos, and not the type your kind like either. Too bad. Well we can’t have that. They’ll have to be disposed of.”

“My point exactly, however we can’t juzzt go about letting everyone know that thizz sort of thing can happen. We’ll have to, azz much as I hate to say it, work together to wipe thizz under the rug.”

“Fine. I suppose we’ll have to keep an eye on things until we have a plan”

“Herezz what I have so far…”

And so the two hatched a plan. An angel, a demon, and the Vatican, all taken out with a poem commission, some antimatter, and a few lies. Simple really. 

The convenient thing about Angels is how unsuspecting they are. While the opposite but equally convenient truth for demons is they are always suspecting. In many ways angels and demons have not changed, or maybe they had and no had one bothered to ask them. Rude to assume really. 

………………….**** .......………………

Aziraphale’s phone rang and the look on his face when he picked up was all Crowley needed to understand who was on the other line. 

“Aziraphale. Just checking in, protocol and all. Say can you do us a favor? There’s an outbreak of hellfire at some church nearby, Santa Maria della Vittoria, usually we wouldn’t care too much but since it’s hellfire we figured we’d send an agent to check it out. Why don’t you just pop over there and then get back to your mission!”

“Right um yes, abso-”

“Perfect! Should just be a quick little miracle, then back to antimatter hunting! Right? Great talking to you!”

“He sounds so cheery lately..” Aziraphale muttered before turning around directly into Crowley. 

“BAH! Don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear. Hell fire at the church?”

“Yes, Gabriel wants me to go over and put it out, but we’re no closer to finding the altar!”

“Well...if you’d like. I could go over there and put it out real fast for you.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley in earnest. In the demon’s softened face and calm words he saw just how much Crowley was blatantly trying to help him. Not hiding the offers with jokes or immoral rationalizations, but simply being there for him. Like no one else had. Like heaven never had...like she… No. Crowley meant well. It was clear how much he cared for Aziraphale, but it was dangerous and foolish. They were on two separate sides, good and evil, and no he just couldn’t keep this up. They had to separate. He had to do this alone. He didn’t need someone always going out and helping him, he could do this alone...angels don’t fail and he was an angel after all. 

Crowley watched Aziraphale’s soft look slowly harden with thought. He waited, wanting to speak, wanting to interrupt the conversation in the angel's mind that he feared would end with rejection. 

“No. I’ll go take care of the church, we can’t have one of your own spotting you going against them. You stay here and find the next altar, then call the Vatican to pick up Cardinal Lamassé. Call me when you find the next altar and I’ll meet you there.” 

He hoped that Crowley would either not find the next alter or that Aziraphale could at the very least interrogate whoever had started the fire at the church. Surely it was meant to distract him from the antimatter. It wasn’t a solid plan but it separated them enough while not entirely hurting Crowley in the process. He hated lying to him, but if he was being honest with himself he was tired of fighting the stubborn demon who was only going to push more if he outright rejected him again. 

The response Aziraphale gave was frank and precise. Not what Crowley had been suspecting but the fact that Aziraphale still wanted his help gave him no choice but to agree. 

“Alright then, meet back later. Err um be, well you know. Um good.” 

“Right, ehh, I suppose I will, you t- you um be you.”

“Oh uh, yeah.”

And with that, the angel was gone and Crowley was left alone at the crowded Vatican square, with a dead cardinal, and not a clue from history of where to go next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. This was silly and I’m glad someone got paid to write this. Live your best life Andy Campbell. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/cardinal-fashion-show-vatican-wear-photos_n_2852944 
>   2. In the movie Vittoria does CPR and this does not go well with a man with holes in his lungs. It’s actually how she realizes he has holes in his lungs. Oops 
>   3. I can’t believe I didn’t have Crowley make "Another Bites the Dust "reference earlier! Dammit! Though only realizing it later seems more in character and on-brand for the both of us. 
>   4. And here we go with altar fail number two! In the movie, they actually changed things around with movie magic so that one of the markers has a distinction. But in actuality, they all have little lines on them. 
>   5. Another strike for time periods and locations not consistent with Dan Brown’s timeline. Seriously my guy, look it up. http://stpetersbasilica.info/Exterior/Obelisk/WindRose.htm 
> 



	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm excited to get this out here! I realize the hiatus was a while but thanks for coming on back to this with me!  
> Thank you all for all your comments and support! I love seeing people being just as excited about Good Omens and shitting on Dan Brown as I am.

**19**

When Aziraphale arrived outside of Santa Maria della Vittoria he saw a crowd had gathered, standing far back as they watched the historic church burn. In the distance he heard sirens. He had to act fast. Hell fire itself is incredibly dangerous to angels, able to burn through their very essence and destroy them completely. It can, however, be dissipated with a very solid miracle which Aziraphale had been given the authorization for. This was why amongst the flurry of fire trucks, Carbonari, and reporters, Aziraphale parted the crowd and walked right up to the church. He was furious, tired, and wanted answers. The doors swung open for him and he raised his hand. A blast of incredible wind and light suddenly pushed through the church and put out the flames. 

Realizing the show he just put on he stilled the minds of the crowd around him as he walked inside and out of their memory. 

When it wasn’t crispy from Hell Fire, Santa Maria della Vittoria was a masterpiece. The blast had cleared most of the fire and now smoke filled the room, hiding it’s beautiful ceiling murals and colorful marble pillars. Still, through the smoke and light of the entrance the golden altar shined. The center of which showed a gold casted sculpture of a ring of angels enveloped in a burst of heavenly light. Rays sprouting out not much unlike the ones Aziraphale had unleashed earlier to calm the flames enveloping it. He looked around and saw the charred remains of what used to be brilliant sculpted white angels sprouting from the arches and domes of the ceiling. The wooden pews were burned black and their charred embers glowed menacingly. Aziraphale was careful to not touch them as he walked by1, . 

As the smoke moved he saw a figure on the floor beneath the altar, and his heart sank. The third cardinal lay there, charred and smoldering. He didn’t dare to touch him or move closer, for as the smoke continued to shift in the light he saw a figure resting on the altar. They we’re leaning back with hands behind their head, as if watching the cloud of smoke turn into shapes above. The angel stiffened, and realized who he was standing in front of. 

“Surprised you left your office desk, Prince of Hell.”

“Well we can’t all get around azz much azz you do Aziraphale. Say how izzz that going for you anyway?”

The Prince moved to get up and in one swift movement swung himself off the altar and on top of the corpse of the cardinal beneath him. A crunch resounded through the church as charred bones snapped from the weight of designer shoes. 

“Whatzz it like to fuck a demon? Quite the tempter izzn’t he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m here on a mission and there’s something that tells me you’re behind all this. I didn’t think Hell cared about The Vatican! Or Cardinals! And Antimatter? It all makes no sense!” 

“Oh we don’t really. In fact none of that matters. I’m not here for any of that. But I knew you would come here. Alwayzz zo drawn to the flames, aren’t we? That’zz something I can get behind and thatzz why, Azziraphale, I’m here for _you_.” 

\-------

Crowley was pacing in a large circle desperately looking for a difference in one of the many seemingly identical wind faces marking the compasses directions. The more he walked, however, the more he began to think someone made a pretty big stretch in using this particular wind dedicated monument to be the Illuminati's altar. In fact he began to think unless he was going to go off of slight inconsistencies in hair and eyes that he should best try another method. If someone had made a stretch perhaps it was a historical one?

Fuck. 

He wished Aziraphale hadn’t left him to the research part of their- er uh the mission. He’d much rather be mocking whichever prick had come up to raise Hell fire at a church with one of the horniest sculptures in the city. Which for Rome was saying something. (I mean come on the Ecstasy Of St. Teresa?! That's a pretty blasphemous one! Figured the guys would be into that)....He stopped at that and it dawned on him. 

The next alter was fire, a fire had been set at a church, with a sculpture, by Bernini. 

“Oh shit. Aziraphale.”

“Aziraphale? No. Not this time Crowley. ” 

Crowley turned to face the familiar voice, but before he could was knocked out cold by a hefty Obelisk souvenir held only briefly by the smug looking Archangel. He swiftly discarded the thing before raising his hand and transporting both himself and the unconscious demon away. 

\--------

“If you think you can frighten me, you’re quite mistaken. I couldn’t care less what you think you can do to me. You’re on my ‘turf’ here, as they say, and I would care to have some answers.”

“Oh Azzziraphale I’m not going to touch a hair on your pretty little head. I’m here to _help_.”

“Help!? How on earth could you possibly help?! You just killed one of the cardinals!” 

“ I decided to give you a hint. After all, if you don’t get to the last altar in time, how would you save your boyfriend?” 

“My...I don’t need a demon wasting my time like this. I have a mission to run. So if you’d be so kind, please move, if you won’t, well then we will have a problem Prince of Hell.” 

It was a bluff. Crowley was fine. If he said anything now he’d be in more danger. He had to convince himself Crowley was okay. 

“Oh I won’t be staying. I have to get back to my desk, azz you so nicely put it. Here’s a hint though. The next marker izz how I imagine you make a certain demon feel. Have fun.” 

The Prince of hell stomped his foot and poofed away in a cloud of ash and flies. Aziraphale didn’t cough since he had forgotten to breathe the entire time. He was too caught up in thinking of Crowley, found out and trapped somewhere all because Aziraphale couldn’t say no to his help on the mission. 

He moved away from the altar and back towards the main chamber near the entrance. The smoke had started to clear and he saw the true damage to the church. It was heart wrenching. Marble blackened and cracked from Hell’s heat. The ceiling’s crown molding was decorated in angel sculptures, each with a different pose. He noticed they were all charred and ash covered now. As he scanned the ashen angles his eyes drew upward towards the ceiling. The fresco painted there had once been bright. Showing the Virgin Mary on cloud surrounded by heaven’s rays, and below her angels had fallen to sharp rocks and were tangled in serpent's coils, they held....books 2. . 

He shivered, the image was now streaked black and ominous. Mary seemed far less heroic when covered in ash and heavens rays were cracked from the Hell fire that had reached them. He thought of Crowley, how he had fallen, and how humans could never be able to fully depict that sort of pain. Pain he, himself had ushered.

It had been war… he had no choice..no he had and he had chosen HER, he had chosen Good! So why had it felt wrong? Cruel even? Was Lucifer evil when he was thrown out of heaven? Or did his fall create evil? Had they created evil when they punished the rebels? 

A crack resounded in the church and the angel jumped fearing heaven’s punishment for his thoughts, but it was only the charred pews breaking into coals from the heat that had consumed them. 

He composed himself. Heaven knew his heart, and knew that at his core he loved Her even if silly thoughts gathered every now and then. She was merciful in that way, trusting him and knowing him to realize that earth had influenced him. He was still, in his heart, part of Her...army...of Good! 

He stopped in his tracks and looked up at the chapel to his left. A nearby window brought street lights into the dark church, catching the golden rays of the piece as it shone in the dark, The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa. The sculpture he realized had not been touched. He did not appreciate the Prince of Hell’s sense of humor but he was glad he had spared one work. 

He scanned the work. Bernini’s work had been farmed in green marble pillars, the golden rays that shot down from the piece’s ceiling were pointed and sharp. Teresa’s “ecstasy” was stabbing, her body however was open, relaxed on clouds, her face, well Aziraphale didn’t want to use any sort of provocative language to describe exactly, but he found the that it was able to capture a mix of what looked to be pain and...pleasure. 

The piece was based on her theory that the soul ascended to god in four stages. The Devotion of; Heart, Peace, Union, and this fourth stage, The Devotion of Ecstasy3. The angel above her was calm, almost smug, as the woman came undone before them. Aziraphale never liked this piece much but it was still breathtaking, and it was the next marker. Though the thought briefly flashed across his mind, he chose to ignore what the demon prince had implied about him and Crowley earlier. 

Instead, he looked toward the angels pointed arrow. What direction was that pointing? North East? This was impossible! It was pointing mostly down4! Then he saw something. At the bottom of the sculpture written in soot. 

“Fountain of Four Rivers.” 

The Prince had left him more than a hint, but it could be a trick.

The fountain was nowhere near the direction the angle was pointing. Then it hit him. Directions and paths didn’t matter. Crowley had been right. They had found the first alter through a poem, the second they had guessed based solely on wind, and the third? Well the Prince had to set a church on fire to even lead him there. Of course Hell had never had a solid plan to begin with! 

This was a new game entirely, and one he couldn’t afford to lose. 

Aziraphale took one more look at The Devotion of Ecstasy. 

_Please let him be safe_

He left the burnt church still smoldering behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. In the book they do a whole stakeout scene while in the movie they just walk right into the flaming church. It’s funny because this is supposed to be one of Tom Hanks’s Big Action Hero scenes, but I can’t take anything that man does seriously. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SMdlFuK0G_I 
>   2. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Maria_della_Vittoria,_Rome https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Maria_della_Vittoria,_Rome#/media/File:Santa_Maria_della_Vittoria_in_Rome_-_Ceiling.jpg Here's the church and Here’s the ceiling . 
>   3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teresa_of_%C3%81vila Here’s where I got all this from. 
>   4. I seriously have no idea where this man got this direction from. However since I’m me, I did a serious google look at the statue and the pointing of said arrow and it does not point to the next alter. In the book, Langdon asks the fire chief what direction that is and the chief goes “West I think?” You think dude? Robert my guy you’re really gonna base your entire theory on the next alter based on some dude’s sense of direction? Anyway, he’s wrong. The arrow points North East, the next altar is South West. But that did matter to Dan Brown apparently. Man really just made a list of pieces that could have elemental meaning to them and then went “IT POINTS THIS WAY!”. https://www.google.com/maps/@41.9047008,12.4943693,3a,30y,233.14h,114.79t/data=!3m8!1e1!3m6!1sAF1QipMxF0B8gG-aohk8gOrkLuP1OhXT2NPP0JfYv2hK!2e10!3e11!6shttps:%2F%2Flh5.googleusercontent.com%2Fp%2FAF1QipMxF0B8gG-aohk8gOrkLuP1OhXT2NPP0JfYv2hK%3Dw203-h100-k-no-pi-0-ya262.06223-ro0-fo100!7i8704!8i4352?hl=en-US 
> 



	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You like footnotes? How about footparagraphs? I went off here.

#  20 

Crowley opened his eyes and immediately groaned. His vision focused and he saw he was in a medieval looking prison cell. His head and wrists were throbbing. He felt the stretch of his arms being pulled up above him and noticed the source of his wrist pain. Yep, those were angelic chains alright. He was surprised they weren’t searing him into oblivion. He hadn’t expected such comfortable captivity from Heaven, maybe they were going soft. 

“Oh look you’re awake!” 

Then again probably not. 

The Archangel Gabriel walked over to the demon chained to the wall like a marionette strung up for a dance. He glanced over at Crowley’s wrists and sighed.

“You know it’s funny, I thought you’d be screaming by now, but it looks like you’re further gone than we thought.” The angel gave him a tight smile. 

Crowley lifted his head to meet Gabriel’s gaze. He didn’t want to die at the hands of this bastard, but he realized he hadn’t yet. There was something else at play here. What had he meant by further gone? How much further could a demon get? 

“Gabriel! Been a while hasn’t it? How’s that divine justice going? Get any more wings? Heard you can really just pile them on these days.” 

Gabriel’s smile dropped and he went to pick up a fallen chunk of rubble by the side of the wall. 

“You know I think I should knock you back out. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure to wake you back up when Aziraphale falls. You won’t want to miss that.” Gabriel backed walked over to Crowley.

“Az-fal-wait!-fuc-” 

The crack reverberated through the room. Gabriel tossed the rock to the ground and scanned the deteriorating walls of the ancient mausoleum’s prison.

“You know, I don’t really get why humans go through all the trouble of building places like this.” 

He looked back to the demon hanging limply before him. 

  
  


“These pathetically fragile bodies make fine tombs of their own.” 

\----

Aziraphale walked into Piazza Navona and made his way through the tourists and street vendors towards the fountain at the piazza’s center. Even from a distance he could clearly see his destination. The Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi was brightly lit. It’s glowing pool illuminated the large statue gods representing The Nile, Danube, Ganges, and La Plata rivers, in the middle of them was an obelisk, perched on top of which was a bird holding a branch. Still walking, he wasted no time as he scanned the pool, looking for a trace of a body. Hell was playing to kill. He knew that now. 

The fountain’s moving water cast waves of deceptive shadow in the pool. He mostly ignored these until he noticed one patch of shadow that wasn’t moving. His eyes scanned over it until he noticed a chain, hanging from the neck of one of the river gods1 . He ran the rest of the way and jumped in. 

The pool was deeper than he had expected it to be, maybe three feet of water. Whatever its depth it was certainly deep enough for the cardinal in front of him, bound in chains, to sink to the bottom. Luckily Aziraphale didn’t need to breathe2.  . The Cardinal was unconscious but Aziraphale could still see an aura in him. He hadn’t been too late this time3. . 

He waded over to the chained man, scooped him up, and lifted him above the water. As he did so he felt the chains tug back towards the one hung around Danube’s neck. With a strong glance it snapped in two and fell to the pool below. By now the Piazza was crowded around the pool. He had unfortunately forgotten to take the crowd's eyes off him. But that didn’t matter now anyway. 

“This man needs hel- Oh right.. Quest'uomo ha bisogno di un'ambulanza!!” 

Two men went to help Aziraphale pull the man out but stepped back when they saw the water drenched angel could lift himself and the chain bound man with no struggle at all. 

Aizraphale laid him on the ground and used his jacket as a pillow for the cardinal’s head. He quickly undid the chains and slipped them off him before positioning him to perform CPR.

Aziraphale’s hands pressed into the fresh brand on the man’s chest that said ‘water’. He ducked down and used his breath to draw the water out of the man’s lungs in a miracle that would stop him from having to press more into the open tissue. In an instant, the Cardinal’s eyes sprang open and he began to spit up water. He lifted himself to be seated but grimaced at the pain on his chest. It had already begun to heal with the angel’s touch but it was still raw. 

“You’re going to be alright Cardinal Baggia”

Cardinal Baggia looked at Aziraphale with a curious but odd recognition. He was surprisingly calm for a man who had just about died. “You’re an angel. Aren’t you? Has my time come? Are you here to take me to God?”

Aziraphale smiled. The warm radiant aura that came from the man in his arms was shocking for anyone he had encountered in the church. Furthermore, he saw the man had a true connection with God Herself. A bit of a rarity these days. 

“I am an angel but no. Cardinal you've much more to do here. Follow your heart, God resides there. The church will follow.” Aziraphale noticed the man grow tired and he went to steady him. The Cardinal had a sleepy gaze in his eyes as he floated into unconsciousness. 

“I need to know Cardinal, where did they take you?” Aziraphale said quietly. 

“Castel Sant’Angelo...grazie.” Cardinal Baggia's soft words faded with his thank you. He closed his eyes as the angel laid him down to sleep. 

Aziraphale rose up as the paramedics arrived around the Cardinal. He took the cue and made a quick call

“Hello, Camerlengo?” 

“Professor! We haven’t heard a word from you in hours and the church is beside itself! You leave us a body in a chapel, and then one in the square, and And now I have word that an ambulance is headed toward Piazza Navona to pick up Cardinal Baggia!”

“Camerlengo I realize this isn’t exactly how we wanted this to go however Baggia is alive. I am on my way to find the antimatter. I’ll recover it soon.” He stopped realizing he had forgotten one. “Oh and you may want to check on Santa Maria della Vittoria to recover the body of Cardinal Guidera.”

“Santa Maria-Cardinal Guidera-His body!”

“I’m so sorry Camerlengo but I can’t delay any longer. Uh- Ciao!” 

And with that he hung up on the Camerlengo. He took one last look at Cardinal Baggia being lifted into the ambulance, picked his jacket up off the ground, and disappeared into the crowd. 

\-----

“Did you drop off our final Cardinal?” Gabriel looked up at the Prince of Hell who had just appeared before him. The prison was charming in a human torturing kind of way and Beelzebub made his way along the rows of rusted devices as he spoke. 

“Yeah the Cardinal izz taken care of. I tried to make sure he wouldn’t immediately drown though. If he’s smart he’ll think to ask him the location. If not he’ll have to guess if dovezz count as angels4 and if they can point in the direction of thizz place. I gave him a little prezzent to find the passageway. He’ll be here soon enough.”

The Prince took a look a the unconscious Crowley and smirked. “How’zz lover boy over here?”

“He kept talking so I knocked him out again.”

Beelzebub walked over and examined the chains around Crowley’s wrists. He noticed the red marks but not much else. 

“Theze are holy?” He touched them and with a burn immediately drew back his hand

“Well izzn’t he just a pathetic little mutation. Still. He’ll die all the same.” 

“I look forward to it.” Gabriel moved in the wooden chair he had been sitting in. “This human seating device is a different kind of torture.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Okay so let’s break down this fucking scene because it sure is a doozy. Robert Langdon, see’s the “Hassassin” pull up with a van and confronts him. They have a small chat before the guy pushes the cardinal in the water, jumps out at Langdon who shoots him in the foot. They wrestle underwater a bit before Langdon pretends to drown and the guy leaves. So how did Langdon pretend to drown without drowning? Well you see Langdon sucks water from a “spumanti” air hose in the fountain, then convulses and lets all the air out of his lungs so he’ll float to the bottom? He holds this for around a minute pretending to be dead so that the guy leaves. SO HERE WE GO. First of all “Spumati” is probably referring to supumante wine, a sparkling wine. Spumanti is the plural, as in like many sparkling wines. He may have been trying to refer to “foaming” which I found the connection to on Wikipedia but the better word to use here would be “schiumogeno” or “spumeggiare” I want to point this out first because FUCK DAN BROWN’S SORRY EXCUSE FOR ITALIAN THROUGHOUT THIS WHOLE DAMN BOOK. Secondly, does the fountain have bubble tubes? I found one source that said no but it’s not very reliable so I obviously decided to research fountain aerators. So the biggest issue I have here is that The Fumi Fountain doesn’t need artificial bubbles. After watching a lot of videos of the fountain flowing there’s no “foaming” as Dan Brown describes repeatedly, cept for near the fountain spouts. The flow of the water provides the churning that well enough given that it’s not a super deep fountain. A series of small surface aerators would do this foaming thing well enough but that’s not what Dan Brown is describing here. It’s also cleaned out by a preservation company along with other historical fountains in Rome so it doesn’t need them for cleaning. In fact I couldn’t really find a good description or use for what Dan Brown is referring to here. “Spumanti tubes” suprise-suprise, aren’t actually a thing. Okay so let's move on once again to faking Langdon’s death. Langdon would have to grab on to the tube while mid-fight and take a breath from the air tube (without choking since you know he’s MID FIGHT). Hold that while thrashing then releases everything and somehow sink to the bottom and hold his not-breath for over a minute (it says 30 seconds but it would have to be longer for the whole process). Just this whole process is bogus and dumb. Air tube or not the man would have choked or the guy drowning him would have noticed he wasn’t actually fucking dead. Anyway here are some of the links I use for all of this https://www.clemson.edu/extension/water/stormwater-ponds/problem-solving/aeration-circulation/index.html https://www.angelsdemonsrome.com/piazza-navona/ https://www.meridian.net/italy/2016/12/22/14060042/trevi-fountain-rome 
>   2. Luckily our angel here doesn’t doesn’t really need to breathe? I play around here a bit with what corporeal forms can and can’t do. But hey I never claimed that I wouldn’t! 
>   3. In the book the Cardinal dies. In the movie he lives mostly because the movie makes it clear that oh hey there are people in the Piazza to help him and also Langdon doesn’t have the dumb fight scene. I chose to let him live because honestly Aziraphale not saving one of these guys at the very least really hurt my heart.
>   4. Robert throws a fist full of coins up at a bird on the top of the fountain to see if it’s a fake and then proceeds to call it an angel, because it’s “the pagan symbol for the angel of peace”. So that’s a fun sentence right there. Let’s debunk it. I’m guessing the pagans he’s referring to here aren’t your neopagans, many of which do have practices based on both Christian and ancient polytheistic beliefs and rituals. So let’s cross that out and go with what I assume he means are Greek and Roman pagan beliefs, given the location the book is set. Sure. So here’s the thing about the ancient Romans and Greeks, they didn’t have angels. They had gods with wings who were messengers but that’s not the same thing as an angel exactly. Still, for argument's sake let’s say that’s what he’s going for here. So we’re looking at Greco-Roman messenger gods. So Hermes and Mercury and Iris. The first two are not peaceful so they’re out and the last one is associated with a rainbow but that’s about as peaceful as she gets. Also, none of these guys are associated with Doves. So what I’m saying is. This is a big stretch and a dumb sentence that everyone just kind let slide. Also, the bird on the obelisk is holding a branch and looks REAL FAKE. So the whole tossing up coins thing? Really silly. (I’m not going to put every link here I used for this dumb tangent.) 
> 



	21. Chapter 21

#  21

If you were to ask an angel what an epiphany is, despite all of the religious connotations to the word, they would not be able to tell you. That is because an epiphany is an entirely human experience.1

Angels don’t realize things. They know things, and what they don’t know, they do know better than to question (Or at least they did after Morningstar’s little tantrum). Humans, however, are different. It started with a choice, then an apple, and with it, the first epiphany to have ever occurred. Though certainly not the last. 

To be human is to experience realization over and over again in a way the divine can never truly understand. Which makes the word interesting in the second way humans use it. An epiphany being the manifestation of the supernatural and the divine. This was all relevant to Aziraphale, though he didn’t know it, as he arrived on the bridge to Castel Sant'Angelo, with an earworm in his head based on a joke he had made earlier about a Queen song. 

Ahead, Castel Sant’Angelo was lit up unceremoniously by simple flood lamps. Just enough to make out the structure, along with some of it’s more detailed points of interest. This included a statue on top of the Castle which was supposed to be the Archangel Micheal, though Aziraphale thought it was not showy enough to look anything remotely like them2.  .

Aziraphale crossed the bridge steadily, as statues of angels guided his way. The “OOOOOOoooos” to “You take my Breath Away” ran through his head and suddenly he remembered a particular day in Oxford. 

\----

Aziraphale was in his dining room setting up for student tea hour, a tray of teacups in hand, when his student Claire had asked the question. 

“Professor, why is it that you only play the sad ones?” Claire pointed towards the record player softly playing Freddie Mercury’s “OOOoooos”. 

“The sad whats?” Aziraphale asked, setting the tray down carefully on the table and pouring himself and Claire a cup. Claire always seemed to arrive first, she had the most questions, some of which weren’t lecture related. 

“The sad Queen songs! You know “Who Wants To Live Forever” and “You Take My Breath Away”, especially. Whenever we're over here you always just play the sad ones! I’m not even sure they’re on the same album? Did you make this? She looked down at the blank record spinning. 

“Uh. A friend of mine did. You Take My Breath Away isn’t a sad song though. ” 

“It sure sounds sad! And that doesn’t explain  _ why  _ you play them.”

“Oh um. Well, uh they’re just songs really.” 

“Really? Do they remind you of something...or someone?” The nosey freshman girl asked as she picked up her teacup from the table, and took a long, pointed sip. 

“Noooo! Nope. Uh just songs.” Aizraphale tried not to come across as flustered by the question, but failed. He gulped his tea down quickly before realizing it was probably still too hot for humans to do that, he pretended to choke. Claire ignored him. 

“Professor. My psychology 101 class taught me recently that avoidant tendencies like you’re displaying right now actually mean you really dooo want to talk about this.”

“Did it now?” Aziraphale was not convinced, in fact he knew the girl was lying but he also knew she was right. 

“It’s a person, isn't it? You miss them, don’t you?

“Miss him? He’s a demon! I can’t miss him!” Aziraphale realized his outburst and felt the flush rise to his corporeal form. He put his teacup down and took a seat. 

“Oh. Um.. I’m sorry to hear about that…” Claire took another sip and it seemed like she was going to end it right there, but of course she didn't. It was getting far too good now. “ How do you feel about him though?” 

“How do I-” Aziraphale sighed and looked into his teacup for answers.  __ “Heaven knows how I feel about Crowley.” 

\---------

_ “Heaven knows how I feel about Crowley.”  _ The thought struck him at the midpoint of the bridge. 

Oh.

_ She knows  _

And there it was. 

_ She knows! She knows how I feel about Crowley and yet she’s never stopped us! I haven’t fallen! I’ve changed...and Crowley...has too!3. _

An epiphany. 

Azirpahale ran. 

_ She knows  _

_ She knows and she always has _

_ It’s her will.. _

“Let him be safe.”  __ It’s a prayer and for the first time, it’s spoken to her directly . 

Aziraphale crossed the bridge and realized he didn’t even know where to begin. Was there even a Church of Illumination4. ? Was Crowley there? He had followed the contrived path and hints Hell had laid out for him, but was any of it based in fact? Most likely not. So where did that leave him now? Another thing was he’d never actually been here before. Sort of surprising really given the history that had been wrought here. A mausoleum, turned Vatican fortress, turned museum. He approached the castle's clearly marked museum entrance and paused. While Crowley would be amused at Hell’s passage being through a museum shop, he realized the rest of Hell would probably be thinking of a more traditional route5. . He opted to search around the exterior of the Castle instead 6. . 

Aziraphale's eyes combed the walls for any sort of break or entrance Hell might have used to bring in the cardinals, and now, Crowley. He didn’t have to look long however to see not an entrance but something odd none the less. In the glow of a bright flood light a foot away, a black jacket had been laid on a bush in a planter by the wall. He came closer and immediately recognized the well stitched fashionable jacket. 

Hell was teasing him, but he felt he was on the right path now. He took the jacket and brushed it off before draping it over his arm. If this was a clue, what was it for? He looked closely at the nearby wall and noticed a trace of an outline in the worn stone. There was a pathway here but it was no longer open to anyone but the angel. He took a deep breath, mostly because it felt like the right thing to do of course, and walked through the wall7. . 

The other side of the wall opened up to the middle of a dark staircase. He made a ball of light appear easily and guided it to get a look at his surroundings. Up the stairs lead to a false dead end, possibly the door to a secret passage the castle was supposedly known for. Down the stairs lead to what little Aziraphale could see of a stone floor, part of a passageway below. He descended the stairs and came to a passage that was lined with small square prison cells. They looked to be made for animals, but Aziraphale guessed otherwise. At the end of the prison chamber was a wooden door, and immediately he knew where Crowley was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. I used this definition. https://www.lexico.com/en/definition/epiphany Also this link was intresting https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/epiphany/201101/how-do-you-we-i-define-epiphany-exactly .
>   2. Dan Brown writes “..it was only used sporadically and Bernini had made numerous renovations to it over the years.Langdon had little doubt that the angel and surrounding pentagonal park were Bernini’s doing as well.” The angel referred to here in the singular is not one of the angels on the Ponte Sant'Angelo but the one on the very top. There were actually two of these made. A marble one made in 1536 by Raffaello da Montelupo and in 1753 the bronze replica made by Peter Anton von Verschaffelt. That’s the one still standing today. So wrong. Secondly Bernini only worked on the bridge’s angels. I could not find a single thing referring to Bernini working on anything but the 10 angel designs, only two of which he actually sculpted himself. He certainly did not renovate the inside of the castle and the park around the castle has nothing to do with Bernini. Either though I couldn’t find anything as to why the surroundings of the castle are a pentagon park. Though my guess is it has to do with the strategic positioning of the ancient castle and nothing to do with paganism. 
>   3. This is probably my only call out to Good Omens. HOW COULD GOD NOT KNOW? Answer? She does and she ships it.
>   4. I think it’s funny that a man who claimed every piece of art and every fucking tunnel he references are 100% correct as are their EXACT LOCATIONS, but then he goes and makes up and entire space in a well-known castle. Though to be fair if there was a Church of Illumination I feel like Dan Brown would still fuck up its location anyway. 
>   5. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hV0FGkhdpFI Here’s a video guided tour. I honestly love the narrator. He’s a gift. 
>   6. So how does Robert Langdon get into the castle? Well there is this awful scene where he climbs a tv station vans satellite crane (wtf??) and uses it to scale the wall. He literally has a conversation with a man up in a tower about it. He doesn’t even ask the guy to let him in? This whole scene makes no sense and is an awkward nightmare to read. Also he called out Vittoria's name when he sees the shadow of a figure on a balcony which turns out to be a tv guy trying to get a good view of the city. Dude! You’re trying to be stealthy! Don't call out the name of the person you know is being held captive somewhere by the bad guy! Does Dan Brown think Robert Langdon is smart and cool or did he write him as a dumbass on purpose? I honestly can’t tell with some of these scenes. 
>   7. http://forgottendm.blogspot.com/2013/11/castel-santangelo-hadrian-final-resting.html Map of The Castel with Il Traforo. So in the book, Il Traforo is what Robert Langdon uses to get into the castle and eventually find the Church of Illumination. He mentions that it’s a ramp that goes up and was used to bring horses up through the fort. This is true. EXCEPT THEN HE USES IT TO GO DOWN FOR SOME REASON! It literally doesn’t do that. He even said it was meant to go up and then is surprised when it goes down? When it doesn’t in actuality?! There are so many paths here, he could have picked any of them. WHY WRITE ALL TUNNELS ARE ACCURATE AND PULL THIS SHIT?! 
> 



	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys, this is it. Enjoy!

#  22

When Crowley came to he immediately sensed his boss' company. This had less to do with a dangerous demonic aura and more to do with the now present flies trying to make their way up his nose. He shook his head and then lifted it to meet the Prince of Hell’s unsurprisingly smug expression. 

“Oh Beelzebub, should have told me you were coming. Really make yourself at home. Gabriel will have tea on in a minute, won’t you dear?” He smiled up at the angel on the bench next to him, but his eyes gave him a look of absolute hatred. 

“Can I knock him out again?”

“No. Aziraphale should be here momentarily and I want Crowley to be awake when he watchezz his boyfriend die.”

Suddenly Crowley remembered what Gabriel had said before knocking him out again. Aziraphale was coming? For him? He’d get himself killed! For Crowley’s sake? Or did he even know Crowley was here? Was this just part of the mission and Aziraphale hadn’t even realized Crowley was gone. 

“What do you mean he’ll be here?!” Crowley’s tone was spiteful and almost a hiss. “Where even are we?!” 

“We’re in a hidden prison, in some castle that the humans thought it would be nice to cover in angels. Honestly though, I wish we had dropped the history act and set up with the antimatter in the actual tomb,” Gabriel said, rising from his chair. He stretched his arms in a way humans shouldn’t be able to do exactly. “At least that place had comfortable seating.” He looked almost bored, but then again he was an angel and that’s how most of them always looked anyway. 

“Don’t worry Crowley. Azziraphale will be here soon. The Prince’s hands snapped and a burst of Hell fire appeared suddenly. Gabriel tried to not look too uncomfortable in its vicinity but he inched away anyway. “And then the fun starts.”

Crowley turned towards Gabriel. “Did God ask for this?! To kill one of your own?!” His voice had become furious. “For what?!”

Beezlebub got out of his chair and stood right by Crowley’s ear, smiling into his low tone. “For pitying you. Honestly Crowley you’re so pathetic. Heaven despises you and Hell wants to put you out of your misery, and the only being who wants otherwise is about to die for your sake.” The Prince turned to face Crowley head on, looking him up and down. His arms chained above him, with his feet dangling just enough to touch the floor. 

“You know what kind of chainzz those are Crowley? They’re the chainzz of Heaven. They’re holy, and notice how they’ve barely even burned you. You’re a mutant Crowley. Weak. Pathetic. Hell will give you nothing to save yourself and Heaven can’t save you. You’ll die after him. You can’t fall any further.” 

“..a mutant....” Before Crowley could finish his thought a door was pulled off its hinges and a furious looking angel stood in its place. He saw Beezlebub and Crowley first but then froze when he saw Gabriel. 

The archangel smiled and gave a tight wave “Aziraphale! Glad you could make it!” 

The angel’s shock subsided and he regained his composure. Gabriel was not God, and now he knew the truth. Just like Hell was of Crowley, Gabriel was afraid of  _ him.  _ He threw the door aside, shifted Crowley’s jacket up his arm and walked over to his boss.

“I’m not going to fight you Gabriel. You’re going to let Crowley go and we’re going to walk out of here unharmed.” Aziraphale spoke to his superior directly, ignoring the amused prince of Hell in the corner. 

“Oh? Is that right? Huh. You hear that? It looks like we can go.” Then his face turned down and he walked over to Aziraphale. “Except we won’t. Your little lovers game with daddy long legs over here? It’s done. You think we didn’t know about you two? How ‘close’ you are? Huh? You know what disgusting things we’ve seen from you two? A demon falling in love, and an angel wanting a lot more than just that! Just what would she think if she found you two out?1,  ”

Aziraphale smiled and looked directly into Gabriels face “Why Gabriel do you doubt that she doesn’t? Do you doubt her omnipotence? Of course she knows! She’s always known how much I love Crowley. Yet I haven’t fallen, and do you know why that is Gabriel? It’s because it’s her will.” As Aziraphale walked over to a very much in shock Crowley, Beezelbub watched from the corner. He hadn’t expected the angel’s confession but it was certainly interesting. Gabriel had wanted to take the lead on this part, and he waited to see if the archangel could handle it. He honestly doubted it, which made this all a lot more entertaining. Watching the Archangel Gabriel squirm? Well you could say it had become a bit of a hobby of his. 

“How are you dear?” Aziraphale took Crowley's face in his hands, shooing some flies away in the process. 

“Uh ngk- um I’m fine. Just fine. Um I’m sorry did you just say-”

“I love you Crowley. Yes dear. I know it’s a shock but we don’t have much time. I’ll explain it more later. I just need you to get you out of these chains.”

“Uh hello?! Hi Aziraphale! I’M NOT DONE TALKING TO YOU.” Gabriel’s voice grew into a tantrum of a yell and Azirphale turned to face him. Beezelbub smirked from the corner and raised his eyebrows at Gabriel, who was not paying attention to his mockery in the slightest. 

“You think you’re special? That you can just go waltz off to earth and live happily-ever-after as mutant rejects? Well it’s too late. You’ll fall and then you’ll die.

Aziraphale strode up to Gabriel, angry but firm. “And who’s going to make me? Are you? I don’t think She authorized it, did She?” He looked at the raging angel and saw a quick shift in his eyebrow, doubt maybe? 

“I don’t think I can fall, Gabriel. When I say it’s her will, I mean that this is part of Her PLAN. It’s evolution. Crowley and I aren’t just an angel and a demon, we’re something entirely different. And,” he added with a bit of a smirk, “that scares you.” 

Gabriel lunged at Aziraphale grabbing him by his shirt. “Let’s get one thing straight here2.  principality. I’m not scared of you. I’m the Archangel fucking Gabriel! I have battled Lucifer, I’ve taken voices!” He was screaming now, lifting Aziraphale up off the ground in an angry fist. In another plane of reality all six of his wings were unfurled and splayed out not much unlike a peacock3. , preparing for what may come next. “ I’M THE MESSENGER OF GOD HERSELF AND I WILL BE THE ONE TO SOUND THE TRUMPET WHEN SHE DECIDES TO END THIS MISERABLE WORLD A TRAITOR LIKE YOU CALLS HOME!” 

Aziraphale grabbed the hand at his collar and looked up to Gabriel, showing no fear, just rage. 

“I will not fight you Gabriel.” He repeated firmly, but Gabriel could swear the stormy eyes of the principality now flashed streaks of orange and yellow. Veins of lighting and fire striking revelations and epiphanies all at once in a being he could no longer call an angel. The thought sickened him. Maybe the mutation was right. Maybe he couldn’t fall now, but Gabriel wasn’t just here for Aziraphale after all. He didn’t give his thoughts away to Aziraphale by looking at Crowley. He didn’t need to glance up to know the pathetic, useless excuse for a demon was still chained to the wall. Maybe holy chains could not burn him, but Gabriel was tired of these games. It was time to finish this. 

He looked at Aziraphale with the same face he had had when he had demoted him thousands of years ago. Smug, heartless, and smiling like he was the one to make the call himself, like he could dictate God’s justice for Her. “Maybe you won’t fight me. But will he?” 

Gabriel flung Aziraphale to the side and in a quick fluid motion raised his hand into a different plane and drew a gold tipped javelin. Aziraphale recognized the weapon as one that had killed thousands of fallen angels in battle, demons on earth, and now was set to kill the being he held most dear. He launched himself towards Crowley, but was too late as it stabbed his beloved directly in the heart. Crowley screamed as the javelin pierced his very essence and flooded his corporeal form, and very soul, with a crackling golden light. 

Aziraphale gently held the demon’s face, ignoring the watchful Prince of Hell in the corner. Nothing mattered but Crowley. Tears streamed down his face as he witnessed Crowley’s pain. The golden light eating at his core. Had he been wrong? We’re they simply just an angel and a demon damned by God to be made examples of what not to become? But if so why was he still here. Why did everything suddenly feel right? 

“Crowley. Breathe love, it’s alright. You’re so extraordinary dear.” He touched the flooded wound on the demon’s chest. “Don’t fight it dear. You’re still here.” He looked into the demons eyes, “That means something.” and with that Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him. 

The touch was soft and full of golden static. Their lips met, lightly clasped, and were at first paralyzed by the current now connecting them. Then they were drawn together and as the kiss deepened the light spread between the two of them. Beaming in streaks, cracking through Crowley’s skin and flowing through his lips in a connection of current to Aziraphale’s very being. 

Gabriel and the Prince watched in dismay, revulsion and curiosity. As the pair kissed and the light grew together into a frame of piercing rays, and between them, a devotion of ecstacy.

Then the light snapped back and the pair ended their kiss. Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s eyes and saw cracks of white light, crepuscular4. rays shining through the grey. 

“You love me.” He said softly. 

“I do.” Aziraphale whispered back. 

“My turn.” Aziraphale turned to meet the Prince of hell now at his side, who immediately smacked the angel clear in the face, with a ball of hell fire. 

Crowley used all his strength and pulled at his chains which broke with surprising ease, but it was too late. As he fell to the floor, Aziraphale was engulfed in flame.

The angel cried out in shock as the heat reached his body. It burned...but not unlike a steaming hot shower. He watched as the flames licked his skin, the heat still a bit too hot but not at risk of killing him instantly. What's more is, it listened to his will  _ please oh thank you not this jacket. Or Crowley’s mind you, he does really like this one.  _ From the floor Crowley's mouth was agape and he laughed almost giddily as he watched how immediately the flames behaved for the angel. It worked both ways. 

__ Beezelbub had noticed too and he backed far away again. Aziraphale walked over to meet him, still on fire, the flames dancing around him. He stopped in front of him and gathered the flames into his palm. “I’d be careful playing with this if I were you.” He grabbed the shocked demon's wrist and gently placed the fire back into his hand. “I’ve heard it can burn.”

He turned back to face Gabriel. “She does not make mistakes Gabriel. If I were you, I would leave the two of us alone for a while. If She has an issue with how we handle things here, I have a feeling She will deal with it herself. But until then,” he turned to Beezelbub, “remember just who you’re dealing with.” 

Gabriel, now decidedly tired of this whole mess straightened his coat and began to adjust his cufflinks as he spoke. “Well see about that Aziraphale. See, maybe you can’t fall from this but you certainly can fail a mission assigned to your name. Maybe you don’t care about those things anymore but, oh would you look at the time?” He checked his wrist that absolutely did not have a watch. “Seems like a bit of antimatter is about to cause a fireworks show in the holy city. Have fun.” And with that a circular shining portal appeared and Gabriel smiled one last wicked grin before walking through and disappearing into the light. 

Beezelbub, stood in the corner still shocked before he began to laugh uncontrollably. 

“Fuuuuuck. Thatzz funny. What a fucking buzzt!” He turned towards Crowley who looked up at him still on the floor. “Until I can find a way to kill you make sure I don’t fucking see you, okay?” He laughed one more time before he stomped his foot and disappeared into a cloud of flies and ash, leaving Crowley and Aziraphale with an emotional moment that would have to wait. The two had only five minutes before the entire Holy City was sent to heaven. If it was lucky of course. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. In my first write of this scene Aziraphale says “Do you expect me to fall?” and Gabriel goes “NO AZIRAPHALE I EXPECT YOU TO DIE!” But I decided to take this climax semi seriously. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mx9z99YJ_7s 
>   2. “I’m not” 
>   3. Gabe is also known as the “"peacock of paradise” This seems right. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gabriel#cite_note-42 thank you wiki: Josef von Hammer-Purgstall Die Geisterlehre der Moslimen (the doctrine of spirits of muslims) 1852 original: Bayerische Staatsbibliothek digitized: 22. July 2010 (german) 
>   4. This is for you Fay, I’m branching out with the big smart words. How else could I accurately describe the pulchritude of Aziraphale’s gaze, huh? *trolls beta in footnotes* <3 
> 



	23. Chapter 23

#  23

The Passetto di Borgo is a passage in a wall that connects Castel Sant’Angelo to the Vatican City. If Crowley and Aziraphale weren’t celestial variants with only five minutes to stop a bomb from going off, they might have taken this course to the Vatican1 maybe done some sightseeing even. However this was not the case and the two were able to blip to The Vatican in seconds, right to the tomb of Saint Peter2.  . 

“Are you absolutely sure it’s here?” Aziraphale said adjusting to their new surroundings. The tomb was cool and dark except for the light coming from the exit and the few lights showcasing the marble ruin in front of them, closed off neatly from the public with velvet rope.

Crowley went up to the ruin and ducked under the rope. “Eh kinda? Good hunch. They mentioned a tomb earlier, and well, this seemed like the best bet-AH HA! FOUND IT!” 

Aziraphale followed Crowley and ducked under the rope to see a capsule slightly bigger than a bread box, with a suspended glowing spec. It had been wedged into a corner of the ancient tomb. 

Aziraphale reached to carefully dislodge it. The time read :59 seconds. 

“Let me just contain this one moment,” and with a snap of his fingers, the timer stopped. A lot more convenient than say, hijacking a helicopter and tossing it into the sky only then to use a makeshift parachute, that would never work in practice, to safely land unharmed. No, that would be nonsense3. . 

“Well. I guess that’s that.” Crowley said, playing with his jacket sleeve for a moment before taking the chance to look up at Aziraphale. 

“I guess so.” Aziraphale turned to meet Crowley and the pair looked at each other openly with a new buzzing kind of fear. The quiet of the tomb held them still for a moment before Aziraphale quickly turned and said. 

“Well! I think it’s time we called the Camerlengo. Don’t you!?” Crowley’s face fell. He sighed, and pushed up his glasses. “Right. Yeah. Well, let’s get this over with.” He turned to walk out. 

“Crowley.” Crowley stopped and turned around. 

“What are you doing for breakfast?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Il Pasetto is https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Passetto_di_Borgo is a secret bridge walkway disguised as a wall. Robert Langdon and Vittoria use it as a way to get to the Vatican in the book but he describes it as dark and dank. It’s literally above ground my dude. Like that’s the whole point! Not only that but it’s pretty open and only partially covered. Dark and damp? Really for an exposed air bridge? ALL TUNNELS DAN BROWN?! ALL OF THEM?! What makes this funnier is that in an interview he credits touring Il Passetto (which he refers to as an underground tunnel) as to why he wanted to write this damn book in the first place! So like which is it? There isn’t an underground tunnel the pope used dude. That’s the point of the real Passetto! Did you lie about this tour? Did you lie about that being the inspiration for this book?! Have you ever been to half of these places that you brag about?https://www.bookbrowse.com/author_interviews/full/index.cfm/author_number/226/dan-brown https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rHL7H8WW2A http://decentfilms.com/articles/fact-checking-brown 
>   2. So the tomb of St. Peter and the ruins of St. Peter’s tomb are two different spots. These are the ruins. Dan Brown mentions “No one is allowed there”. Whether or not that changed since he wrote the book I don’t know. What I do know is that you Can see the ruins, but can’t just walk into on your average tour. You have to make an appointment. The fun part is that they might not even actually be St. Peter’s? The church just sort of declared that one. https://www.romewise.com/st-peters-tomb.html Here a virtual tour, in Italian with subs. 
>   3. God it sure would be wouldn’t it?! So in the book Langdon uses some helicopter window cover tarp thing to parachute to the ground. You know as an explosion from antimatter goes off above him, cool, very realistic. He drops into the Tiber river and doesn't die for some fucking reason but also the damn cassette tape (that conveniently reveals the who plot) isn't damaged in any of this! In the movie they don’t even try to pull off this dumb scene. The Camerlengo does the helicoptering himself and uses, wouldn’t you guess it, an actual parachute. 
> 



	24. Chapter 24

#  24

It was a new sensation, checking into a hotel, Together that is. It was far too early in the morning for breakfast once all the proper conversations had been had with various points of authority. 

CERN was amazed at how the professor had managed to stabilize the antimatter’s canister battery with a portable phone battery pack and a few curled wires (Crowley’s idea), but they surprisingly didn’t question it too much. In fact the whole absurdity of the situation seemed to slip their minds. 

Commander Olivetti had been furiously scrambling all across Rome and the Vatican trying to pick up the pieces the professor and his “assistant” had left behind. However when he saw the capsule of antimatter his face had changed as it dawned on him how the two had just saved the lives of everyone in the city. He did not thank them, but grew silent after that and dismissed himself. 

Camerlengo Ventresca1 however did thank them. When they had arrived to the outside of the city where the evacuation limits had been drawn (still far too close and far too late), the Camerlengo had been overjoyed. He had immediately begun organizing, along with Olivetti, the reoccupation of the Holy city and the commencing of conclave. Which had been postponed so that they would not have to interrupt it later on should an evacuation arise. 

As the morning grew nearer the two had grown closer and closer in proximity until, as they climbed the steps to their hotel room, they were gently holding hands.

Crowley led Aziraphale immediately to the balcony and the two stood there for a moment. Side by side looking out over Rome. The sun was just a strand of a crest over the city, easing up gently to meet the horizon. 

They had done this before once. Watched the sunrise together, much farther apart than where they were now. Somehow it always came back to this; the sun, light, Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale felt Crowley reach for his hand and he turned to meet him. Lips pressed against his hand gently, carefully, a question. Aziraphale moved toward him and, not knowing how to express the feeling overwhelming his chest, pulled Crowley toward him and hugged his waist as his face found the crook of the other’s neck. 

“Angel-I. I’ve always wanted this.”

“Me too dear.” Aziraphale replied soft but clearly into Crowley’s ear. 

“Did you mean it? What you said earlier?” 

“That I love you? Yes Crowley, I meant it with everything I had.” 

Crowley removed his glasses and laid them to the side before he took Aziraphale’s face in his hand. Aziraphale looked up at him, into his eyes, and saw widened pupils filled with worry. He lifted his hand to Crowley’s face in return, and kissed the palm cupping his own as he kept his eyes on Crowley. 

“Aziraphale. I-I love you too.” He spoke the last part like it was a realization. The “too” not being how he had ever expected this to go. He never expected Aziraphale to love him back. 

“Angel I’ve loved you from the beginning of creation.” 

Aziraphale laughed suddenly. 

“What? You’re laughing? I’m having a heartfelt moment here!” His tone was a playful scold but he looked at the angel with concern all the same. 

“Oh Crowley!” he said at last, “I’m no longer an angel! Not really? And you? You’re not much of a demon either! Honestly, Crowley, what even are we?” It was the loss of a title, a label, an identity, and nothing to replace it with. 

Crowley took his angel’s face and pressed their foreheads together.

“We’re us. On our own side.” he looked at Azirphale’s lips and leaned in as he whispered. 

“But you’ll always be my angel.” 

By the time the sun rose, the balcony was empty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. In the book the Camerlengo did it all and the Illuminati never actually returned. The Camerlengo kills the pope when he finds out that he conceived a child. Later it's revealed to be through artificial insemination with a nun. Guess which nun? The Camerlengo's mother! When he finds this out later he lights himself on fire. It’s kinda a bummer. Like chill out dude, that a whole lot to do over your dad being the pope and wanting a son. He like loved you too. Dick move to kill him just because he thought science was neat. He wanted a kid without having to break his nondick wetting oath. That’s a pretty smart way to go about that! Okay weird family plot aside here’s the thing that really gets me about the end. They say that The Vatican confiscated all the Illuminati stuff and in a secret vault only the pope gets to see. First of all NO system would let only one guy know about this. There has to be someone else who would be in on this secret especially when the position is only really passed down until the guy who knows the secret dies. Secondly Dan Brown makes this HUGE DEAL about the Illuminati returning and it's all fake which on principle pisses me off. Anyway, that concludes the footnotes. I'm so glad I never have to pick up this book again. Fuck Dan Brown. *Mic Drop* 
> 



	25. Chapter 25

# Epilogue 

Crowley came to the cafe early to grab their usual seats. Aziraphale had wanted to finish his chapter, and planned to be there soon. Though Crowley knew it would end up being far more than just that. 

They had been in Rome a month now, and this had become their sort of ritual. Breakfast in Piazza Navona. Dinner elsewhere, sometimes in the room. So much had changed since then, but still he found that some habits die hard. 

At a table next to him he saw a man was writing a note on the receipt despite having a notebook right next to him. His sandy brown hair had an awful wispy style and he was wearing a tweed jacket, with jeans. He looked absolutely American posing as a British tourist. This was going to be fun. Crowley slipped into the seat across from the american and leaned his head on his elbow. 

“Writing anything profound?” 

The man who hadn’t noticed him, suddenly jumped and dropped his pen. 

“Shit! Sorry I didn’t see you there” He bent down to look for his pen. Meanwhile, Crowley peaked at the writing on the receipt. 

_Maria: Age 25 or so she walks on two slender yet toned legs that come to a crest at her small round buttocks. Her breasts are impishly…_

Crowley made a face the man under the table couldn’t see, and wouldn’t have liked if he had. He was a writer. Crowley smiled. Perfect. 

When Aziraphale walked up to the cafe he saw Crowley with a man in a tweed jacket. He was almost jealous briefly until the man turned a bit and Aziraphale knew immediately what Crowley was up to. He walked over to the two, and heard a snippet of conversation. 

“And you should call it something vague but ominous like “Angels and Demons” 

“But there aren’t really any demons in this story are there? Just art and antimatter?”

“Right..it’s a metaphor of course!” 

Crowley looked up at his angel smiling cocky as ever. He rose from the chair. Suddenly the gold band on his ring finger was clearly on display. 

“AH. Well if you’d excuse me my husband is here so I best be off, but do whatever you’d like with the story idea I gave you.” 

Aziraphale blushed at the word ‘husband’, still very not used to the concept. Which meant Crowley was using every opportunity imaginable to use it. 

“I’m sure it’ll be brilliant!” The demon winked at the author and even being very straight, and clearly married as well, the writer blushed. 

“Oh, uh nice talking to you Mr.- Oh I never got your name. He uncapped his pen and waited.

“Rober,t” said Crowley, trying not to laugh as he said it. 

“Oh, I have a character named that!” He said scribbling it down anyway along with a description. He looked up to say goodbye but the pair had already begun walking across the piazza. 

The American turned back to his pad and feverishly began to write. 

  
  
  


# Author's Final Note 

Thank you all for your support in this shit talking parody fic I loved writing. This story has meant a lot to me. It’s the longest fic I’ve ever written and certainly the most researched piece of writing I’ve done in years. Good Omens got me back into writing fic and for that, I am so grateful to the story and the fandom. 

Looking back from the beginning to the end of D&A I can see how much I’ve grown as a writer. At times it feels a bit inconsistent, but in the end this entire fic has been a testament to my own growth in writing and to be honest? I kinda love that. I loved this idea and I took on quite a task but in the end I really am pleased with how it turned out. I hope you feel the same, and if not? I’d love to see your own takes and the like on Good Omens/Dan Brown shit talking crossovers! Seriously DM me on twitter @SeltzerinShadow if you got one! 

The ending was planned halfway through this fic, but I didn’t anticipate how much it was going to mean to me as I finished it. 

I grew up catholic but no longer practice it. I’m very queer. These two things are separate for me but there are so many people in my life for whom that is not the case. I hope the essence of the ending comes across as this. 

If you believe in god, believe this too. The fact that you are here, as you are, means something. 

Again thank you to Fay_the_gay for getting me back into writing, betaing all my comma nonsense, and of course being an incredible friend. <3 


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